


Harry Potter and the Black King

by Phoenixstrike



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Het Relationship, Drama, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Novel, Romance, Sexual Content, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 118,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenixstrike/pseuds/Phoenixstrike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HP/DM slash. AU after Mad-eye's death in Deathly Hallows. Harry has arrived safely at The Burrow, but when a worrisome dream becomes a vision of Voldemort, he decides to act. Little does he know how much his decision will affect the outcome of the war. With new allies in addition to old, can Harry finally vanquish the Dark Lord once and for all? A novel-length fanfic that follows canon until The Fallen Warrior chapter of DH. Horcrux hunt fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Desperately Dreaming of Draco

_ Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all identifiable characters and storylines are created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including- but not limited to- Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury and Warner Bros. No money is being made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.  _

[](http://s378.beta.photobucket.com/user/sophiesmummy2008/media/bkbanner.jpg.html)

 

 

Voldemort was beyond livid. His eyes shone with a furious scarlet matched only in colour by the blood shed from the captured dying Muggles in the drawing room he was standing in. No Death Eater dared move or speak, their eyes fixed on the macabre situation as strongly as if they’d had a Permanent Sticking Charm applied to them. Voldemort raised his wand, pointed it directly at the heart of one of the cowering sobbing men, and shrieked, “ _Avada Kedavra!”_ Green light ejaculated from the end of his yew wand and struck the condemned victim squarely in the chest. He crumpled into an awkward heap on the floor, stone dead.

The remaining Muggles began to scream in terror. Voldemort unleashed the Killing Curse repeatedly and mercilessly until the screams became weaker and weaker and eventually silence fell and the room stank of death. A high-pitched icy laugh filled the room as Voldemort instructed Nagini to consume to bodies. Then he turned to face his Death Eaters.

“Harry Potter has once again evaded me,” Voldemort spoke to the room at large. “My patience is wearing thin, as is my temper. I am most displeased by this situation. How is it that a boy- one with mediocre magical talent- is able to escape from Lord Voldemort time and time again? I had been informed that using another wizard’s wand would allow me to destroy the boy. I admit that I feel somebody lied to me this evening. Lord Voldemort does not forgive untruths.

“Some of my Death Eaters were lost tonight,” Voldemort continued. “We will not mourn them. This does, however, impose a problem I confess I had not foreseen. Our numbers have been reduced and thus we are weakened, whilst Harry Potter and his allies survive.

“And yet I find weakness and even unwillingness amongst those who do claim to serve me faithfully.” Voldemort fixed his gaze upon Draco Malfoy, who promptly turned as white as milk and swallowed hard has his grey eyes met the crimson of Voldemort’s. “Young Draco, I wish you to prove your strength to me. Up to now you have proven yourself weak and a failure. You have been a disappointment to me so far. Step forward at once.”

Draco tried to control his trembling as he forced his legs not to collapse from fear as he walked forwards and stood in the spot Voldemort indicated.

“Draco Malfoy,” Voldemort all but whispered. “You were given a task a year ago. You failed in carrying out that task. You did not kill Albus Dumbledore. Lord Voldemort was merciful to you at that time. You did, in part at least, succeed in bringing about his demise. I spared your life and that of your worthless parents. But now is the time, youngest Malfoy, to prove yourself to me.” Voldemort flicked his wand and Draco flinched, obviously expecting some curse to hit. Instead the semi-conscious form of Mr Ollivander levitated into the room.

“Now, my dear Draco, I believe that our friend here has been lying to me. I was given information by him that should have brought about the downfall of Potter once and for all this evening. This did not happen. I am giving you the task of demonstrating what Lord Voldemort does to those who are treacherous and proving you are worthy of the Dark Mark. This time you will kill.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he clearly had to fight the urge to vomit. Sweat began to pour from his forehead and tears prickled in the corners of his eyes. Voldemort laughed his high-pitched terrifying laugh once more.

“Now,” he whispered. “You will torture, and then you will slay. Or face torture and death yourself. And know now I will not dispatch you with a swift and clean execution like those filthy Muggles received. It will be long, and drawn out, it will be rather… messy and agonising. I have been severely displeased tonight. I will enjoy your death.”

Draco took aim of his wand with severely quaking hands at the levitating figure of Garrick Ollivander and, in a barely audible voice, muttered, _“Crucio.”_ A small feeble jet of red light left Draco’s hawthorn wand, and hovered pitiably in the air before dropping pathetically to the floor. Voldemort followed its progress with his eyes, a look of blinding fury in them. Some of the other Death Eaters began to snigger. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy both looked on the verge of collapse over fear for their son.

“Again,” Voldemort commanded. Once more Draco raised his wand.

“ _C…Crucio,_ ” he stammered. This time not even a small jet of light left his wand. Draco choked back a sob. Voldemort gave him a murderous glare.

“Well well well,” he said, in a deathly cold tone. “It seems that Draco Malfoy is unlearned in the Unforgivables. Perhaps we should teach them to him. Lesson one, Mr Malfoy. When casting an Unforgivable you really need to desire your victim to suffer. Allow me to demonstrate.”

And he pointed his wand directly at Draco and calmly cast the Cruciatus Curse on him.

Draco screamed and dropped to the floor. Narcissa broke down in heaving sobs as she witnessed her son enduring such excruciating pain. Lucius Malfoy was white but otherwise emotionless- the quiver of a hand the only betrayal of his inner feelings. Voldemort wore an expression of cold fury as he held Draco under the curse. Draco was screaming, and weeping; his limbs were flailing wildly and his face was wet from tears. Then, just as suddenly as the curse had struck, Voldemort released it. Draco collapsed bonelessly onto the floor.

“Now. Let us see what you have learnt,” Voldemort whispered in Draco’s ear, his rancid breath on the back of Draco’s neck causing the blond to shudder. “This time you will succeed, or you will have condemned yourself to a painful, slow death. I am not feeling generous tonight.”

Draco stood up. Despite his pallid colour, the characteristic uncontrollable shaking of his limbs of one exposed to the Cruciatus evident and his tear-stained face, he was defiant. He glanced once more at the levitating figure of Ollivander, then shook his head violently at Voldemort.

“I will not,” Draco said, fully aware he was signing his own death warrant.

“You will not,” repeated Voldemort. He closed his eyes in thought for a moment, before opening them and fixing his gaze on Draco’s father. A sneer appeared on his serpentine features.

“I could force you of course, with the Imperius, but why, when this will be much more satisfactory. Lucius. Come here. It’s time to teach your son some respect I believe,” he said, the words laced with hatred. Lucius’ gaze left the pitiful image of his broken son and found Voldemort.

“R…Respect, my Lord?” Lucius stuttered.

“A father’s role is to teach his son manners and respect, is it not? It appears he is woefully lacking in both- a failure, no doubt, on your part as his parent. You, Lucius, are being given the highest honour of teaching your son the consequences of refusing to carry out my orders. I wish you to Crucio your son.”

Lucius turned the colour of sour milk as he bit back bile. “And if I refuse, my Lord?” he whispered

“Then you will die. And so will your wife. I will kill you both slowly and agonisingly, and Draco will be forced to watch every slice my wand makes into your flesh, forced to hear every scream of pain that leaves your dying lips. The view of your corpses will of course be the last thing he ever sees before he suffers the same fate. So, Lucius, what is it to be? Immediate death for you all, or one small lesson in how to speak to your betters? Who knows, perform it well and I may even spare the wretched boy’s life. You have one attempt to succeed at cursing successfully.” With that Voldemort reached out to a Death Eater and snatched the wand from his grip, holding it out to Lucius.

A small flicker of hope gleamed for a split second in Lucius Malfoy’s eyes, before once more being replaced with fear. Refuse to do this and condemn Draco to certain death, or hurt his own son for but only a slither of hope for his survival.

A slither was better than nothing. Lucius had made his decision. He reached out and took the wand from Voldemort’s hand.

With hands much steadier than he felt he pointed the borrowed wand at his son. He shut his eyes; uncharacteristically there were tears escaping from them. Narcissa was sobbing hysterically across the room. Draco was whimpering softly, eyes fixed on his father’s deathly pale face. Lucius opened his eyes and met those of his son’s. Draco’s eyes were so like his own. They were looking at him with fear but acceptance. Lucius’ own were full of regret and self-hatred. He closed them again, unwilling to see what he was about to do. With a final deep breath, Lucius cried out “ _Crucio!”_

Once more Draco fell to his knees, convulsing under the force of his father’s curse. With a decisive _crack_ his left forearm snapped; Draco howled in agony. Lucius was crying freely now, loathing himself, but believing that this was the only possible chance he had to save the life of his son. Narcissa passed out, whilst Voldemort and Bellatrix both cackled in merriment at the Malfoys’ suffering.

It was at this point that Snape, who had been paying _very_ close attention to the mind of Voldemort in an attempt to read his intentions, felt the presence of another. For the first time in his life he applauded Potter’s poor Occlumency skills and his inability to block the Dark Lord. This time it may just save Draco’s life. His lips curled in triumph; all hope was not, yet, lost for the young Mr Malfoy.

“That will do,” said Voldemort quietly, and Lucius immediately removed the curse. Draco was no longer conscious. There was a small trickle of blood running from his right nostril and was dripping sickeningly into his open mouth. His left arm bent at an abnormal angle was was swollen and black. His whole body was trembling and his legs were jerking as if they had suffered an electric shock. He was still moaning and breathing in ragged breaths despite his lack of consciousness.

"Impressive," said Voldemort evenly as he began to examine Draco’s broken body. "However I still intend to kill your son." Voldemort kneeled down at the side of Draco, and picked up the broken arm, studying it curiously. He missed Snape seizing this opportunity to whisper in Lucius’ ear, and the brief flicker of relief that crossed the elder Malfoy’s features. He also missed the incantation Lucius murmured discreetly under his breath, and the resulting shake in the manor’s wards.

****

Harry Potter shouted out a final time before finally coming awake. He was unsurprised to see Ron hovering over his bed, face white and frightened, furiously shaking him awake.

“Harry! Harry, mate! Are you okay?” Ron almost shouted. Harry reached over to the side of his bed and grabbed his glasses, rapidly shoving them onto his face. He was pale, and he noticed his pyjamas and bedding were both drenched in sweat and he was gasping for breath. Harry took one look at Ron’s face before nausea overcame him; he pushed past Ron, ignoring his calls to come back, and dashed to the bathroom and was violently sick into the toilet bowl.

He returned to the bedroom several minutes later and frantically started to dress.

“Harry! What are you doing?” Ron demanded. Harry looked at Ron.

“We have to get to Malfoy Manor,” he replied, the panic evident in his voice. Harry was terrified for Malfoy; minutes had already passed and Harry did not know how long Voldemort would play with him before deciding to go for the kill. He could already be… _no, don’t think like that_ Harry scolded himself.

“And why in the name of Merlin’s saggy left ball do we need to get to Malfoy’s house?” Ron asked incredulously.

“Because… because I’ve just seen Voldemort and his father almost fucking kill him and he’s in a bad way. We need to try and help him,” Harry replied. “So get dressed!” He tossed Ron’s clothes to him, but Ron just threw them back on the bed and sat down.

“Again, Harry, explain why we, as in you and me, and Hermione I expect, need to go to Malfoy Manor to rescue that git? If he’s pissed You-Know-Who off then that’s his problem. He’s the one who chose to follow the madman. His own fault, Harry. I’m not exactly going to risk my life for him, mate. You think he would for you?”

“It’s not about whether he would for us or not!” Harry was shouting but he didn’t care. “It’s about me seeing another human being undergoing things that no one deserves and me having a chance to help that person!” He was beginning to become frantic. He didn’t have time to try and convince Ron to come, but going alone would mean almost certain death. He did the zip up on his jeans. “I’m going to wake Hermione, let’s hear what she has to say.”

Minutes later he returned with a very groggy Hermione.

“What’s this about, Harry?” she yawned sleepily.

“I’ve just had a dream- no, a vision- of Draco. He’s… not good, Hermione. Voldemort tortured him then forced his father to hurt him too. He’s going to kill him if we don’t do something. Come on, please, we need to get to Malfoy Manor.” Hermione fully woke up immediately and shot him a disbelieving look.

“Harry, have you seriously not learnt anything about the visions of Voldemort you have in the past two years, and particularly since last year?” Harry winced but shot her a defiant look. Hermione sighed and picked up Ron’s wand from the nightstand, and cast it at the bedroom door.

_ “Silencio,”  _ she said, before turning her attention back to Harry.

“Right. No one can hear us now at least. Harry, I’m sorry, but have you lost your mind? Not six hours ago we took you away from Privet Drive in order to stop Voldemort from seizing you and now you’re asking us both to voluntarily show up where he is, to rescue someone who, let’s face it, is a nasty piece of work anyway? Did it occur to you that Voldemort- oh honestly, Ron it’s just a name for Merlin’s sake!- could be so angry that you escaped him yet again that he sent you this vision in an attempt to lure you to him and in actual fact Draco is fine and fast asleep right now? Honestly, Harry, you lost Sirius like this, are you really prepared to risk it again all for Draco Malfoy?” Harry glared at her for the reminder about his blunder that cost his godfather his life then turned at look at Ron, who hunched his shoulders.

“Hermione’s right, mate,” said Ron. “What if this is all just a trap that You-Know-Who has set up for you? He’s going to be pretty pissed off with you at the moment I should imagine. Whether this is a trap or not, I mean, do you really want to risk this? It’s bloody Malfoy! You remember Malfoy don’t you?”

Harry was white with fury and shaking. He looked his best friends in the eye.

“Yes, Ron. I do remember Malfoy. He’s arrogant, he’s rude, he’s conceited and he’s sarcastic. Which of those qualities exactly mean that he deserves to be tortured to death by Voldemort’s- oh for fuck's SAKE, Ron, get over it- wand? He may be a bastard but he doesn’t deserve this. I’m going. Either you two are helping me or you’re not. I don’t have time to stand here arguing with the pair of you about it. He could already be dying, or…” Harry didn’t finish the thought.

“I agree he doesn’t deserve to die,” said Hermione quietly, and Harry thought he could see tears brimming in her chocolate-brown eyes. “And if Voldemort is torturing him then it’s awful, and I wish we could do something, but Harry! Please, just think about this for a moment! Is rescuing Draco Malfoy more important than starting Dumbledore’s mission? What if you go tonight, and something happens to you? If you die then that’s it, Voldemort will win, he’ll take over, and-”

“ENOUGH!” bellowed Harry, whose last thread of patience had finally snapped. Hermione closed her mouth abruptly and looked close to tears. Ron scowled at him and put his arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “I understand what you’re saying, Hermione, I really do, but I’m sorry. I’m more than just Dumbledore’s little fighter. I am going to the Manor tonight because there is someone there that needs me, and no one else will go- the Order will take the same view as you two. He has no one to fight for him. He deserves a chance.”

“He’s a Death Eater git who doesn’t deserve to be rescued is what he is,” said Ron hotly. “And you’re going to risk your life for him. What is it with you and Malfoy, Harry? Couldn’t leave him alone all last year and now you want to go off into the night like a knight in shining armour and rescue him! Well no, Harry. I’m not coming, fuck him.” And he slumped defiantly down onto his bed. Harry restrained the urge to hit him. Instead he turned to Hermione.

“You agree with Ron, don’t you?” Harry said with a forced calm he certainly wasn’t feeling. Hermione nodded, tears coming down her cheeks now.

“Not about the bit where he doesn’t deserve rescuing! But, oh, Harry, why do you have to go? What about all the underage magic you’ll be doing? Do you want to risk having your wand snapped? Please, stay here and stay safe!” She made to grab his arm. Harry jerked it away from her touch.

“Fine. So much for following me wherever I go and being there for me,” he snarled. Part of his brain told him he was being unfair, that Hermione and Ron didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that by him but he didn’t listen to it. He had already wasted too much time. “I shall see you both later. Thank you so much for your support, and _fuck you both,”_ he said, and he turned to leave the room. He jumped back in shock as Remus opened the door, a look of worry on his features. Harry stepped backwards into the room as Remus entered.

“Werewolves have better hearing than pure humans,” he volunteered, in response to Hermione’s wondrous stare at the door. “We can hear through warded doors. Yes, I heard everything.” Harry’s heart sank. Standing up to Ron and Hermione was one thing, but Remus was another.

“Remus, please, Malfoy… Voldemort is seriously hurting him,” Harry stammered. Lupin held up a hand to silence him.

“As I just said, Harry, I heard everything. I know where you’re going and why. I came to see you before you left as I thought you could do with a hand at Malfoy Manor. I would hate to see you go alone.”

Relief washed over Harry like a wave of cool water. He could have kissed Remus. Instead he just nodded. Hermione and Ron looked scandalised.

“Why?” whispered Hermione sadly.

“Because you will not talk Harry out of this, nor should you try and do so. He is his own person and he has a right to do what he thinks is correct. I will not stand in his way,” Remus replied.

“No!” yelled Ron. “Mad-Eye _died_ to get you here safely! My brother lost an ear! And you’re voluntarily just going to leave? You wanted to leave all evening didn’t you, ever since you got here? This is just an excuse. You ungrateful git. I bet you’ve not even had a vision have you? You always have to play the fucking hero don’t you, Harry. Well I just really hope you don’t die, that’s all I can say.” And he stomped out of the room. Harry refused to let the guilt crash over him. There wasn’t _time._

“Harry,” Hermione was speaking now between sobs, “please, just be careful. I know you’re worried, but so is Ron. He didn’t mean all that. And I know you didn’t mean what you said to us either. Just… please, come back safe,” and she hugged him tight. She too ran from the room, a small cry escaping her throat as she did. Harry stared after is two best friends.

“Ready, Harry?” Remus asked gently. Harry nodded. They crept out of the room, down the stairs and out into the clear July night. Nodding at each other once, they turned on the spot and Apparated to Malfoy Manor.


	2. Harry Potter's Rescue Mission

Harry and Remus appeared in the grounds of Malfoy Manor almost instantly. Harry felt a jolt of panic for what they were about to do. Remus turned to look at Harry, before scooping him into a protective embrace. Harry returned the hug tightly. They broke apart.

“Do you think I’m being stupid in trying this as well?” Harry asked Remus. He shook his head. 

“No. I think you’re like your mother. There’s no way she would have been happy to sit on her hands if there was a possibility of helping someone,” Remus replied. Harry smiled. 

“I want you to know, Harry, that I am very proud of the man you have become. James once risked his life to rescue a known enemy as you know, but your mother would have done so too, and unlike your father for purely selfless reasons as well. You are extremely like Lily. The pure goodness of her heart lives in you. I see more and more of her in you all the time.” Harry flushed at these words. Remus continued, his face sobering. “When this is all over, go straight to Grimmauld Place. I agreed to come to help you tonight because I really don’t want you to get hurt, Harry, and I want to protect you. But, please, do not make the mistake you made earlier tonight. Do _not_ , and I repeat, _not_ , settle for Disarming your opponents as your only line of attack. Expelliarmus is useful but will only gain you very limited success in a building full of Death Eaters. Hopefully we’ll get in and out relatively unseen but to be honest I cannot see that happening. You need to fight, Harry, and go on the offensive rather than relying on defensive magic alone. Do you understand me?” Harry nodded. He’d spent a large portion of the evening prior to his vision thinking about his actions on the move from Privet Drive to The Burrow. He still really didn’t want to kill if he could avoid it, and certainly not innocents like Stan Shunpike, but he knew that he would need to up his game with attacking spells if he was to survive this war. Lupin’s earlier words were right. The time for Disarming really was, well and truly, past. 

Harry then heard Remus snarl and he whipped his head in the direction Remus was glaring in. A dark hooded figure was crossing the grounds and heading straight for them. Harry drew his wand and aimed it, ready to curse. He faltered for just a second when he realised it was Snape. Hatred boiled through him as the image of Dumbledore falling from the Astronomy Tower filled his mind. He shook it from his head; there wasn’t time for thoughts like that. He re-aimed his wand.

“Lower your wand, Mr Potter, before you take somebody’s eye out with it. I assure you I will not be cursing you this evening. I know the purpose of this unexpected pleasure. I understand you’re attempting to rescue Mr Malfoy,” Snape said evenly. Harry was completely wrong-footed by this comment. That he was _not_ expecting. He lowered his wand.

“How in the name of Merlin did you know _that_?” he asked, incredulous. For the first time he wondered if Hermione was right and this was, indeed, a trap of Voldemort’s in order to ensnare him. _Well, it’s too late now if it is,_ he told himself.

“I detected your presence in the Dark Lord’s mind this evening, Potter, whilst I was employing Legilimency against him. I saw your… desperation, and your determination to save him. Fortunately I was able to convey this to Lucius Malfoy without alerting the Dark Lord and he has adjusted the Manor’s wards to accept you.” 

Harry wondered why Snape hadn’t just rescued Draco himself if he cared so much about him but he didn’t have time to consider that at the moment any more than he had time to hate the man right now. He turned to Remus, and saw that he had cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself. Just the hint of a silvery shimmer which indicated the Charm was visible. With a deep sigh of anticipation, Harry threw his invisibility cloak over himself and he, Remus and Snape walked to the Manor’s entrance. 

**** 

“Draco is being held in the drawing room in the east wing, the third door on the right after you come into the wing’s entrance hall. It has a large portrait of Brutus Malfoy hanging on the wall outside of it. The room is being guarded by two Death Eaters,” Snape said quietly to Harry once the three of them were inside the manor, then swirled his robes and left him and Remus on their own, entering through a large set of double doors and disappeared from sight. 

“Where the bloody hell is the east wing?” Remus’ voice came from somewhere near his left shoulder. 

“No idea,” replied Harry. “Hang on a second.” He took his wand out and whispered, “ _Point Me._ ” The wand spun in his hand. 

“Okay, north is behind us and we’re heading south at the moment, so we need to turn left as soon as we can down this corridor,” Harry murmured as quietly as he could. He kept his wand out this time, on guard for traps and Death Eaters. 

“Why is it so quiet?” Harry asked after a couple of minutes’ walk. 

“It’s three in the morning. I expect most of the Death Eaters are in bed,” Remus replied. Then he indicated a left-turn to Harry. They both turned, and were suddenly standing in a huge hall. They were in the east wing. 

“Third door on the right,” Harry reminded himself. He remembered what Snape had said about the door being guarded. “Remus, are there Death Eaters there Disillusioned?”

“It looks like it,” Remus replied. “I can see a faint shimmer. Stunners?” Harry grinned in agreement. They raised their wands, and, in unison, cried, “ _Stupefy!”_

The sound of two bodies crumpling was evident, and Remus cautiously approached them. “ _Finite,”_ he said calmly and the Disillusionment Charms were removed. Harry took in a shocked breath. 

“That’s Crabbe and Goyle,” he said; the disgust was clear in his voice. He bent down and retrieved their wands from their robes, before snapping them in two. “Are you ready, Remus? This could still be a trap and Voldemort could still be the other side of the door.” Remus nodded. 

“Ready, Harry.”

“ _Alohomora,”_ Harry whispered, and the door clicked open. “ _Lumos.”_ The pitch-black room immediately filled with light. Lying in the corner on the floor was the battered and unconscious form of Draco Malfoy. He was in a worse condition than he had been when Harry had pulled out of the vision; clearly he’d taken further abuse in the time that had passed. There was now a very large gash running down his right cheek which was oozing something black in addition to blood. He also clearly had a broken nose, and Harry thought his other arm had also been shattered in addition to the one that was already broken. His eye sockets were swollen and purple and his lip was split. Harry forced down the bile that rose. Draco was in a bad way and needed immediate attention. Harry pointed his wand at him and muttered, “ _Mobilicorpus.”_

Draco rose into the air and hovered about five feet off the ground. Harry checked Draco had his wand; miraculously the Death Eaters had left it with him. Harry sighed in relief; his plan wouldn’t have worked if Draco had been wandless or needed to use another wizard’s wand. Hermione had shown him a tricky charm a few months ago where it was possible to cause one wand to become temporarily magnetically drawn to another, and caused the wand plus its master to follow the wand of the charm’s caster. He quickly muttered the spell, before walking a few feet to check it worked. Draco’s levitating body tailed him instantly. He smiled to himself. Then he turned to Lupin. 

“Remus, can you cast a Disillusionment Charm on me please? I’m going to cover Malfoy with my cloak as it will protect him better than the Charm if the Death Eaters find us.” Harry removed his cloak and draped it over Draco, making sure he was hidden from view, then felt the sensation of a Disillusionment Charm being applied. With Malfoy well hidden and Harry secure that his body would be following him and Remus as they walked, they turned to leave the room. 

Praying they could get out of the Manor as easily as they got in, Harry walked out of the huge oak door and turned in the direction in which they had come. However he knew immediately that they were in trouble- as soon as Draco’s frame had crossed the threshold there had been an audible twang. Harry realised instantly that the door was obviously warded against Draco; they were designed to prevent an escape, and by taking Draco’s body with him, Harry had just alerted the Death Eaters to their presence. The warded door had also removed the Disillusionment Charms placed on Harry and Remus. Remus clearly understood too; he swore softly and stood rigid. It would only be a matter of seconds before the east wing was full of Death Eaters. Taking a deep breath, Harry prepared for battle once more. 

Just then two Death Eaters turned into the wing. Harry aimed his wand at a nearby statue and shouted, “ _Confringo!”_ The statue exploded as instantly and as violently as if a bomb had been dropped on it- the two Death Eaters howled in pain as white hot porcelain seared their skin and razor-sharp shards pierced their flesh.

Remus took advantage of their distraction and cried, “ _Incarcerous!”_ followed by “ _Expelliarmus!”_ The two Death Eaters instantly became bound in ropes, and their wands sored into Remus’ hands, where he promptly snapped them. For good measure Harry knocked them both out cold with a Stunning Spell, before dashing back down the corridor, Remus at his side. He stopped dead when he almost ran into Snape. Snape grabbed his arm and pulled him close, so his ear was in line with Snape’s lips. 

“I’ve managed to spell the Dark Lord into a deep enchanted sleep,” Snape whispered urgently. “He shall not wake, and will not be interrupting you tonight. I cannot, however, do anything about the other Death Eaters. They’re coming. Potter, you need to get out of here now.” And with that he took off back down the corridor and into the main entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. Harry and Lupin both sped off towards the front door, before stopping dead in their tracks. 

Five Death Eaters were standing in front of the door, and another three were emerging from a room off to the left. Harry swallowed hard; whichever way he looked at it they were outnumbered four to one and those were crappy odds even for the best duellers. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with Voldemort tonight. He raised his wand just as the first Death Eater fired the Body-Bind Curse at him.

“ _Protego!”_ he roared, making the shield large enough to protect Draco’s concealed body as well, and the jinx bounced off it. He quickly fired back a Stunning Spell, and was relieved to see it hit its targeted squarely in the chest. The Death Eater buckled and collapsed, unconscious. Harry didn’t have a spare second to sigh in relief, however; the figure of Bellatrix Lestrange was looming on him, a manic expression of sheer evil on her face. He mentally braced himself as she pointed her wand at Harry. “ _Cruc...”_

“ _Reducto!”_ a voice from behind him called, and the spell fired over his shoulder. The Blasting Curse slammed into Bellatrix and sent her flying before she could finish casting the Cruciatus Curse on Harry. She crashed into the wall and slid down, dazed, a trickle of blood oozing from a cut on the back of her head. Harry turned, shocked to see Snape lower his wand. 

“What are you waiting for, Potter? Go, for Merlin’s sake!” he shouted before he sped off towards Remus who was locked in combat with a huge burly Death Eater. He managed to see Snape and Remus floor him before both moving off to deal with separate Death Eaters. He almost made the door before he was hit with a hex that made him go sprawling to the floor. Scrambling back to his feet, he pointed his wand at a Death Eater he was sure was Theodore Nott’s father and yelled, “ _Impedimenta!”_ Nott immediately fell over, and Harry threw a Body-Bind Curse at him, before snatching and snapping the elder Nott’s wand. He tried to catch his breath; he had taken out two of the Death Eaters and it looked as if Remus and Snape had done a good job too. He allowed himself a brief moment of relief until he spotted a Death Eater, Rowle Harry believed, aim his wand straight at Remus’ heart and heard the beginning of the most feared of all incantations. 

“ _Avada-”_

Harry’s blood boiled in fury, and panic surged through him. He had not come here to get any of his friends killed and he wasn’t going to lose Lupin, whatever it cost him. He quickly pointed his wand at Rowle and cried, “ _Sectumsempra!”_

It worked. Harry stared, horrified, as Rowle’s pale blue pyjamas instantly became stained with crimson. He gasped and doubled over, clutching his stomach, before collapsing into a huge pool of blood. His face drained of any colour and his lips were deathly white. With a final gasp, Rowle went rigid and the light in his eyes was extinguished. Self-hatred and disgust bubbled inside Harry. He had known what the spell would do this time yet he had still chosen to use it. He had done what he said he would never do. He had killed. 

He was in shock. He stood, frozen to the spot, eyes transfixed on the slashed remains of Thorfinn Rowle. The front door was open and clear and he dazedly began to make his way to it. Remus caught up with him, a huge gash above his left eye.

“Harry, this way!” he yelled, and grabbed his arm, steering him out of the door. Harry emerged into the grounds of Malfoy Manor but was immediately hit with another jinx; he flew backwards and cracked his head on a rock. Vision impaired by the blow, he stood back up and carefully surveyed the scene around him. He noticed a wand lying on the floor. It was Draco’s. Harry picked it up and quickly checked the surrounding area. Draco was not there. Panic rose once more through him.

“Shit,” he murmured to himself, as the realisation that Draco was also hit with the curse, sending him flying and causing him to become separated from his wand, washed over him. The magnetic wand spell he placed on Draco earlier was now useless, and Harry had a few seconds’ panic whilst he grasped the fact that Draco was lost _. Damn the cloak for being so perfect_ , Harry thought. But at that moment thoughts of Draco were momentarily thrown from his mind because yet another Death Eater was aiming a wand at him. An unknown spell was cast, and a jet of turquoise light soared towards him. Harry dropped to the floor and rolled, the light only just missing him, before throwing an _Incendio_ at the Death Eater. The ground just in front of him immediately burst into flames and the Death Eater yelped and retreated. Just then he heard Lupin’s voice calling out to him.

“Harry, get out of here now! Take Draco and go! You know where to go, Now! I’ll see you there in a minute,” Remus yelled, who was duelling a big blond wizard Harry recognised from the journey to The Burrow earlier that evening as Selwyn. Harry didn’t need telling twice, but with the magnetic spell broken he still couldn’t locate Draco. Quickly he raised his wand and cried, “ _Accio Cloak!”_ and sighed in relief when the cloak zoomed into his hands, revealing Draco’s location at last. He pointed his wand once more at Draco’s levitating body, which was about a hundred feet away from him and shouted, “ _Carpe Retractum!”_ A length of rope shot around Draco and instantly pulled him quickly towards Harry, who, with the reflexes of a Seeker, immediately grabbed Draco round his waist and turned on the spot. Harry’s last view was of the Manor before disappearing was of Bellatrix, recovered from Snape’s earlier Blasting Curse, sprinting across the grounds towards them, casting a stream of emerald-green light that Harry had no doubt was a Killing Curse at the pair of them, before welcoming the asphyxiating sensation of Apparition as they disappeared from the Manor’s grounds.

Harry landed hard on the concrete pavement in the middle of the square outside Sirius’ family home, and swore under his breath as his knees made contact with the unyielding paving slabs. He quickly looked around; thankfully the street was completely deserted. He stood up and brushed the dirt off his jeans. A second later a bloody and bruised Remus appeared beside him, followed by a very pale and shaken but unhurt Snape. All three were quivering badly and breathing hard. Harry felt a throbbing in the back of his head from where it had hit the rock. Gingerly he reached up to touch it and winced in pain at the contact. The pain consumed his head and was beginning to affect his vision. He examined his fingers and discovered they were covered in blood. Snape saw Harry examining the gash and pointed his wand at Harry’s forehead, before gently casting “ _Vulnera Sanentur.”_ Immediately the pain disappeared and Harry felt the gash knit back together. He quickly nodded his head in thanks. 

“We need to get Draco indoors, it’s not safe in the open,” Harry said to Remus, who had been performing Healing Spells on his own battered body. “But how are we going to get him inside? The house is under the Fidelius Charm and we’re not the Secret Keepers.” He stared at Snape for a long moment. Harry was still incredibly confused about Snape and his loyalties after the night’s events. “Dumbledore was.”

Remus turned to Harry. “If a Secret Keeper dies, all those he or she revealed the secret to become Secret Keepers. Harry, this includes you. You’re now Secret Keeper along with everyone else who knew the location. You can reveal the address to Draco and allow him to cross the Charm.” 

“It won’t take the Death Eaters long to find us though, standing here in the middle of the square,” said Harry. “I need him to wake up so I can give him the address- bloody Fidelius Charm.” He suddenly had an idea. He withdrew his wand once more from his jeans pocket and pointed it at Draco. “ _Rennervate,”_ he whispered. The spell shot from his wand and hit Draco; with a sudden intake of breath his eyelids fluttered open. Then he gasped and let out a groan of agony before turning a nasty shade of green. He turned to the side and vomited onto the flowerbed in the square, narrowly missing Snape. Once he was done he looked around. Evidently he did not expect to find himself outside in the middle of Muggle London with Severus Snape, a werewolf and Potter. A look of confusion and fear joined those of distress and nausea on his pale features. “Potter? What the fuck? My father, my mother, where-” he began in a panicked tone before Harry silenced him by holding up his hand.

“Malfoy, shut up a second, we’re exposed in the open and this isn’t safe. The Death Eaters will be looking for us. I need to get you under cover. Can you stand do you think?” Draco nodded numbly. Harry removed the levitation spell from him and gently returned Draco to his feet, where he stood uncertainly. 

“Now listen. Number twelve Grimmauld Place.” 

**** 

Harry closed the door to Grimmauld Place and waited until Remus had escorted Draco into one of the sitting rooms before pushing Snape into the wall. He drew his wand and jammed it into Snape’s neck. 

“Potter, what are you-” Snape began, but he was cut off with a snarl. 

“I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, and quite frankly I can’t work you out and I don’t know what to think. The only reason I’ve let you put a toe over my front door is Malfoy needs you and you helped us out this evening and probably saved our lives. That doesn’t mean I like you or trust you. I need to know what danger Remus and I- and maybe even Draco- are in from you by my letting you in here. In a minute you’re going to ward this entire house so no one else who knows its location can get in- and include Ron and Hermione in that ‘cause I’m pissed off with them too. ‘Cause for all I know you could have told all your little Death Eater friends the address by now. But right now you owe me- and Remus- an explanation as to what you’re up to, Snape.” Snape narrowed his eyes in dislike. The look was very familiar to Harry. He did not, however, remove his wand from the hollow of Snape’s throat. 

“You will address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘Professor’, Potter, and I will give you an explanation,” Snape replied. “But we all need sleep. It is nearly five in the morning and we have been in almost constant combat now for ten hours. You are in no danger from me, I assure you. But right now I need to attend to Draco and heal the worst of his wounds, then we all need to get some rest.” But Harry was defiant. 

“I will not address you as either of those two. You are no longer my teacher. Furthermore this is MY house, Snape. I will address you however I feel fit whilst you’re under its roof. And if you are being honest about wishing me no harm, I’m sure you’ll consent to make the Unbreakable Vow over it?” 

Snape considered Harry’s face for a moment. Harry thought he could almost see a tinge of something close to admiration on his features before he schooled it into one of indifference. 

“Of course, Potter. Perhaps the werewolf will consent to be our bonder?” At this moment Remus came out of the living room. He stopped dead when he saw Harry, wand jammed into Snape’s Adam’s apple. 

“Snape has consented to make the Unbreakable Vow, haven’t you?” said Harry, his green eyes never leaving the black ones of Snape. Snape nodded. “And it would be useful if you could be our bonder. We need to know he’s not going to hurt us, Remus.” Remus smiled and drew his wand from his pocket. Snape reached out and grasped Harry’s wrist. 

“Do you, Severus Snape, promise that no pain, suffering or injury will occur to Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, Draco Malfoy or any of Harry Potter’s allies by yourself which you intentionally inflict for the sole purpose of weakening or destroying, during the course of your presence in this house?”

“I do,” Snape replied.

“And do you promise to cast no hexes or curses intended to cause such injuries upon the aforementioned?”

“I do.”

The magic sparked, and coiled, before fading. The vow was complete. Snape broke the contact. 

“Now, if you will excuse me, I believe Mr Malfoy is in need of my medical knowledge and Potions.” And with that he swept out of the hallway and into the living room. Harry slumped down the wall and hugged his knees to his chest. 

“We’d better let the others know we’re okay,” he said. Remus nodded, and withdrew his wand. 

“ _Expecto Patronum!”_ he said, and Harry watched in awe as a huge dog, one that looked very similar to a certain Animagus he once knew, erupted from Lupin’s wand. Harry stared at the familiar figure, but decided not to ask Remus about it. Remus quickly relayed the message it was to play to Hermione, Ron and Tonks, before it disappeared into the early dawn light. He turned to face Harry once more, a look of concern on his face. 

“And how are you doing, Harry? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. Then he paused, the memory of Rowle’s death playing in his mind. He shut his eyes and willed away the tears that were forming and swallowed the lump in his throat. “No, I’m not,” he said quietly. He lost his battle with the tears and began to cry, and suddenly Remus’ arms were wrapped tightly around him, pressing Harry’s head into his chest. Harry clung back firmly. 

“I took a life,” Harry sobbed. 

“I know you did, kiddo, I know. But it was for the right reasons. You saved my life. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t done that,” Remus replied, stroking his hair. Harry nodded but continued to cry into Remus’ chest.

“Did… did you k…k…kill anyone tonight?” Harry choked. Remus bowed his head solemnly. 

“Antonin Dolohov,” he replied. “And, like you, I feel awful for taking a life. But, also like you, I saved a life in doing so. He was about to cast the Killing Curse at Severus. Harry, you killed a Death Eater tonight, but in doing so you saved Draco’s life. He would have been dead by noon today for certain if it wasn’t for you. As it is his wounds are healing and he is comfortable and safe and sound asleep in your living room. You’re a bloody hero.” Harry let the words wash over him, desperately drawing the small comfort they held from them. 

“Is Hermione right? Will I be in trouble for all the underage magic?” Harry asked. Remus shook his head. 

“No. It’s only the magic, not the perpetrator, that can be traced. You had no reason to be at the Manor tonight. No one will know it was you. Besides, it was self- defence. And no one questioned you about it on the journey from your aunt and uncle’s to the Weasleys’ so no one will this time.” Harry’s breathing eased slightly. 

They sat together for a time, until it became fully light outside. Finally Harry’s tears dried.

“I’m exhausted,” he said. Remus smiled at him. 

“I’m not surprised. Now go to bed, Harry. I’ll help Snape set the wards around the house.” Harry gave a weak smile then ascended the stairs to the room he and Ron had shared two summers ago. He promptly collapsed, fully-clothed, on top of his bed and was instantly asleep. 


	3. Finally, the Truth

Harry woke several hours later due to a growling stomach and a painfully full bladder. After he relieved himself, he made his way down to the kitchen. Snape was the only one in there, sitting at the table and drinking what looked like Firewhiskey from a glass. Harry put the kettle onto the stove to boil and then sat opposite him. 

“Where’s Remus? What time is it?” he asked as he made coffee. 

“Lupin returned to The Burrow this morning, but will return later this evening. It’s a little after seven. You’ve been asleep almost thirteen hours. It will be nightfall again in a couple of hours.” There was a tone of disapproval in Snape’s voice as he said this, but Harry ignored it. Harry thought that fighting two dangerous battles in the space of a few hours of each other and saving someone’s life had earned him the right to sleep as long as he bloody well liked. 

“How is Malfoy?” 

“As well as can be expected. I’ve moved him to one of the bedrooms on the second floor. Mr Malfoy’s injuries were severe and acutely life-threatening. Had you not got him out of the Manor when you did, I doubt very much he would have survived more than another hour, two at the very most. I have repaired the broken bones in his arms and nose, and healed the internal and external injuries. I’ve also given him Blood Replenishing Potions as well as various other healing draughts. His body does, however, need to recover extensively. I’ve put him into a magical sleep to allow this recovery and he will not be disturbed, but I do expect his recovery to be rapid and complete.” Snape paused, staring at Harry. “Potter, what you did last night was nothing less than I would expect from a stupid, noble, self-sacrificing idiotic Gryffindor.” He gave Harry a sneer. _Here it come_ s, thought Harry. _The lecture_. He took a mouthful of the coffee he had just made, which he promptly spat back out at Snape’s next words. 

“Thank you.”

Harry hastily mopped up his spat-out coffee, astounded eyes fixed on Snape. “I couldn’t just let him die,” he replied quietly. “No one deserves what Voldemort was doing to Draco.” Then, before he could stop himself, he asked the question that had been bothering him since they arrived at Malfoy Manor and he realised Snape was helping Malfoy. 

“If he meant so much to you, why didn’t you get him out of the Manor yourself?”

Snape sighed and put his head in his hands. Harry thought he looked older and more exhausted than he’d ever looked. After a moment Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a stiff manila envelope. He handed it to Harry, who saw it had the Hogwarts coat of arms on its seal. 

“I will tell you everything, but you need to read this first,” Snape replied. Harry slid open the envelope and withdrew the sheet of parchment. His heart leapt into his mouth when he recognised Dumbledore’s handwriting. 

_ My Dear Harry, _

_ Well, if you’re reading this letter then, to coin a rather crude Muggle phrase that may amuse you, ‘the shit has hit the fan’. You will hopefully excuse my rather childish language; this is probably the last letter I am ever going to write in my one hundred and fifteen years and I decided that to Hades with tradition and do something a little ‘different’. It amused an old man, anyway. Maybe the rumours about me are indeed accurate and it’s a sign of senility. I shall never know. _

_ Severus is under strict instructions to reveal this information to you only in the circumstance of his cover as spy having been blown, and it becomes necessary for the two of you to work closely together, if I am no longer alive. I confess that I hope you never have to read this, or if you do then the end of the war is nearing. I understand the personal antagonism each of you hold for the other, but I must ask you, Harry, to put aside this and work as the allies you must become.  _

_ I told you a few months ago I would trust Severus with my life. And I meant it. I did, however, neglect to inform you I have also trusted him with my death. You have seen my hand, Harry. Voldemort’s Horcrux did more damage than you realise- it has left a fatal curse that can only be slowed, not removed. Harry, I’m dying. _

_ It is vital that Voldemort is stopped. This means being prepared to do anything- including sacrificing one’s own life- to stop him. I have asked Severus to do the impossible in order to try and maintain his role as spy. He will have to kill me. I do not know when, or how yet, but it will be within the next few weeks. This also preserves the soul of Mr Malfoy. Yes, Harry, you were right about him. I apologise for pretending to disregard your concerns, and for not confiding in you this whole plan, but it was vital that no one, and particularly Voldemort, found out about anything. The connection you have with him means I just couldn’t take the chance. It is not a lack of trust in you. Please forgive an old fool for protecting the world he loves.  _

_ So my death has been planned, and will be executed (pardon me, I just couldn’t resist one final pun) by Professor Snape. This will hopefully preserve his role as spy; if it hasn’t then you’re reading this and you will need to work together on Plan B. He knows about the Horcruxes. Work with him.  _

_ I am so sorry I have to leave you alone with this burden, my boy. So very sorry.  _

_ Albus Dumbledore.  _

Harry finished the letter and stared at Snape. He was shocked to find there was a single tear running down his ex-professor’s cheek. So, once again Dumbledore had manipulated everyone around him whilst confiding in no one. _The man should have been a Slytherin, not a bloody Gryffindor,_ he thought angrily. Harry felt a huge jolt of rage towards Dumbledore at the same time he experienced a surge of pity for Snape. _Poor, poor bastard_ _having to do that,_ he thought inwardly. He just continued to gape. 

“’If you do then I hope the end of the war is nearing’,” Harry quoted from the letter. “Snape, we didn’t even last a bloody month.” And, miraculously, unbelievably and for the first time Harry had ever witnessed, Snape let out a chuckle. It didn’t last long, however, before he sobered once more. 

“And in answer to your initial question, that is why I couldn’t save Mr Malfoy. I hated being unable to assist, but I had to try and preserve my spy status. It was more important to aid your victory in the war than it was to save Draco’s life. The best I could do was to cast some life-preserving charms on him which kept him alive long enough for you to get to him, once I heard you coming,” Snape said mournfully.

“And that is why you didn’t initially fight with us last night,” Harry concluded. Snape nodded. 

“If I could have helped get you in and out undetected then I could still spy- even with the Order after me I could still relay important information to them anonymously, whilst having the Dark Lord’s full trust. After all, no one would doubt the loyalties of the man who disposed of Albus Dumbledore. But it became apparent that was not going to happen and I was forced to make a decision: risk losing you, or show my true loyalties. Harry,”- Harry’s head snapped up at being addressed by his first name- “without you we lose this war. I had to keep you alive last night. That was my uttermost main priority. My cover is blown but you live.”

Harry closed his eyes. It was going to cost him a small part of himself to say what he needed to say to Snape now. 

“I’m really sorry. I’m sorry that my behaviour has messed things up so badly for you, well, for all of us actually, and may have had a negative effect on the war. But I can’t regret what I did, Snape, I just can’t. I could never regret saving someone’s life.” Snape gave him what Harry was _almost_ certain was a half-smile. 

“It is more than a little… inconvenient, but I am grateful you saved Draco’s life. I do not regret your actions either. And I do hope we can somehow form a way to cooperate and work together to bring down the Dark Lord.” He held out his right hand to Harry. Harry paused for a fraction of a second before taking it, shaking it firmly. 

“I hope so too,” he replied. 

****

In the two days that followed, Harry did little except sleep and eat. Draco was still asleep, and he and Snape were still trying to form some type of working relationship. Remus visited several times a day and relayed messages from The Burrow; one of which was about his upcoming birthday party which Harry really did not want to attend but felt he should. Harry realised he still felt fury at Dumbledore; to him the war was a huge chessboard with Light versus Dark, and Harry felt like everyone was a pawn, ready to be sacrificed in order to achieve the final goal. _Well,_ Harry thought determinedly, _we are more than just sacrifices in a game. But if this white pawn is going down I’m taking the black king with me._

****

Harry was just finishing lunch the day before his birthday when he was startled to see a huge snowy owl tapping at the kitchen window frantically with its beak. He panicked; post owls were not supposed to be able to get through the wards. He quickly opened the window and the owl flew in. With a pang Harry stared at the bird- it reminded him strongly of Hedwig. The owl dropped two letters onto the table but did not leave like post owls normally did. _Maybe it needs a reply,_ Harry thought. Harry looked at the envelopes. One was addressed to Draco and the other to him. After checking both letters for signs of Dark Magic or any other jinxes or curses and finding none, he opened his and began to read. 

_ Dear Mr Potter, _

_ This is a letter I never thought I would write. And yet I am, for the Malfoy family is in debt to you. And I cannot thank you enough for the courage you showed in rescuing my son. _

_ Lucius and I were being kept hostage inside our own Manor by the Body-Bind Curse. Dolohov had cast it. With his death we were relieved of it; by the time we came to try and find Draco you had already managed to escape. We were able to flee the Manor and we are now in hiding.  _

_ Please pass on the other letter to Draco once he is well enough to receive it. The owl is called Hecate and it is our wish that she stays with Draco. It is the only owl that will allow Draco to communicate with us as present. I’m sure you’re wondering how she managed to get through the wards. Hecate is a Blood Owl, meaning that they can deliver messages between close blood relatives though any enchantments or wards, no matter how strong they are. They are common in the oldest pure-blood families and are often used in times of war or emergency such as Hecate is now. I was only able to send this letter to you as it was accompanying one to my son. _

_ Again, Mr Potter, I convey the thanks of my whole family to you. Please, look after my son until it is safe for us to be reunited.  _

_ Narcissa Malfoy _

Harry reread the letter, relieved that Draco’s parents had managed to escape. He hadn’t really given them a lot of thought, but now he did he was pleased that someone else hadn’t lost both his parents because of fucking Voldemort, even if one of those parents was Lucius-Bastard-Personified-Malfoy. He reached out and stoked Hecate’s feathers whilst giving her a piece of bacon rind from his sandwich and smiled to himself. 

****

“No, Potter, you are going to go to your birthday party. Try to reconcile with your friends. Allow Mrs Weasley to suffocate you for a couple of hours. Draco will still be here when you return and you can talk to him then,” Snape said. Harry opened his mouth to argue but Snape silenced him with a glare. “I told you I was going to rouse him this afternoon but he will be groggy still for many hours. You can talk later.” 

Harry eventually nodded, scowling, before he turned to leave.

“Oh, and, Potter, one more thing,” Harry turned back round to look at Snape, “felicitations on your coming of age.” 

“Thank you,” Harry replied, before walking out of the drawing room, then out of Grimmauld Place itself, past its wards and Apparating to The Burrow. 

He arrived and cautiously pushed open the door. Immediately he was engulfed in a hug by Mrs Weasley and Hermione. He hugged them both back, thankful that they didn’t seem angry with him at least. Harry was grateful Remus was there. He didn’t feel quite so outnumbered. 

He pulled away from the hug and looked around the Weasley kitchen. There was Mrs Weasley and Hermione of course, Remus and Tonks, Ron, the twins, Ginny, and Bill and Fleur. Harry had forgotten it was their wedding the following day; he hoped they wouldn’t be too mad at him for not attending. 

“Arthur wishes you a happy birthday, but he has to work today,” Molly told him cheerfully. No one was mentioning the fact that Harry had taken off just three days prior and only communicated with them through Remus the whole time. _Maybe they just think I’m going through some sort of personal crisis and it’s better to just humour me,_ he wondered. Harry fixed a smile on his face as he greeted everyone. He knew he was probably being unreasonable, and of course his friends and adopted family wanted to recognise his coming of age, but he really wasn’t in the mood to celebrate.

****

“We need to talk to you. Alone. After this party is over,” said Ron quietly to him, as The Weird Sisters blared out over the WWN. Harry swallowed the sausage roll he was eating and muttered his agreement. Ron turned and walked away, clearly still angry with him, and Harry sighed. He saw Fleur sitting alone, and seized the opportunity to talk to her. 

“’Arry! Ow lovely eet is to see you! We did not get zee chance to talk properly zee uzzer night, did we?” she asked cheerfully. Harry shook his head. 

“Fleur, I’m really sorry but I won’t be able to make your wedding tomorrow. I’d love to be there, but I… I’m just really busy with stuff- important stuff!- and, I just… won’t be able to come,” he finished lamely. Fleur smiled sadly at him. 

“Ah, Bill said zat you would say zis, ‘Arry! Eet will be weird with you not ‘ere but we understand. You must keep in touch though!” Harry beamed at her and kissed her on the cheek. 

“Thank you for understanding. I really am genuinely sorry. I hope you both have a wonderful day.” He said his goodbyes to her then took a trip to the loo. He was drying his hands when Ginny cornered him. 

“Hi, Harry. Look, happy birthday,” she said sunnily. She walked forwards and hugged him tightly. He returned the embrace. Things may not ever work out romantically between them, but Harry would always feel close with her. He also knew she would never judge him for his actions in the last few days. 

“Hey, Gin. How have you been?” he replied, breaking the hug. She looked a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. 

“Better than I was. But I still really miss you. Harry, I really want you back,” she replied. Harry paled. _I cannot fucking deal with this as well as all the other shit I’m dealing with at the moment_ he thought, whilst his brain tried to come up with a politer way to tell it to Ginny.

“All my reasons for ending it still stand, Gin,” he said gently, holding her gaze. _Including the reasons I really cannot tell you. Not yet_. _Especially them_. “I just can’t. I can’t deal with this on top of everything else right now. I’m sorry.” He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm, swung him round so he was facing her, and crushed her lips down on to his. 

Harry froze on the spot as Ginny threw her arms around his neck and tried to deepen the kiss, his brain frantically trying to find a way out of the situation. However, when she found his lips stubbornly clamped shut and unresponsive, his arms clamped to his sides and his eyes wide and staring she gave up and broke it. She gazed into his eyes, tears swimming in her own. 

“I tried at least. Let me know when you’re ready to stop behaving like an arsehole, Harry,” she said, before half-walking, half-running into her bedroom and slamming the door shut. Harry watched her leave, the feeling of guilt building. He turned and punched the wall, instantly regretting it when a white-hot pain shot through his wrist causing him to use a word he’d only ever heard the Weasley twins use before to let out all his feelings from the last five minutes.

“Trying to turn the air blue, Harry?” he heard Hermione’s disapproving voice call from the top of the stairs. “That word really is vile you know. And degrading to women. If you want to use a word to describe a woman’s v…”

“I really, really don’t, please stop that sentence,” Harry begged. “I’m sorry I used it, okay? I’m just really pissed off right now. Can you and Ron say what you need to say to me so I can go home please? I’m sorry, I know I’m being a git but I’m tired, and I’m stressed, and I want a hot bath and my bed.” He didn’t know why he didn’t want to talk with them, but he was still upset from the other night.

“You can spare us half an hour, Harry,” Hermione replied coldly. “In fact, that’s the least you can do.” She turned and walked into Ron’s room, and Harry followed. A minute later Ron appeared, closed the door behind him and put up a Silencing Charm.

“Harry, mate, when are you coming back here?” he asked. Harry sighed.

“I’m not. Look, Ron, I’m happy where I am. It’s nice to be on my own for a while. _Like I’m mentioning my new house guests at the moment._ “The house is heavily warded and safe- as safe as it is here. We’ll still look for the Horcruxes together, but at the moment I need some space.” Ron turned an angry red but said nothing. 

“How is Malfoy?” Hermione asked. 

“Alive and recovering,” Harry replied, somewhat coldly. “Thanks to me,” he couldn’t resist adding. His bad mood wasn’t improved when he saw them both roll their eyes. 

“And saving him? How was that? Lupin wouldn’t tell us anything other than you were successful and unharmed- he said it was up to you whether we knew about it,” Hermione probed. 

“If you two had come with me you’d know how it was,” Harry shot back, before seeing his friends’ crestfallen faces. “Sorry. You didn’t deserve that. It’s just…” He took a huge deep breath. They were his friends, the ones he confided in. They needed to know. “I killed someone. The Death Eaters found us as we were trying to leave the Manor and we had to fight. I didn’t mean to kill, and he was casting the Killing Curse at Remus, and I was trying to save him, and…” He shut up when he realised he was rambling, and his two best friends had both turned white. 

“Who was it?” Hermione whispered. 

“Thorfinn Rowle. But it was self-defence. Well, defending Remus. Please believe me. I didn’t enjoy it or anything!” He could hear the desperation in his own voice. 

“Course not, mate, we know you’re not a killer. And it’s not nice, and it’s horrible you had to do that, but it’s one less we’re going to have to face isn’t it?” said Ron, patting Harry reassuringly on the back. But Harry wasn’t looking at him- his face was fixed on Hermione who looked terrified. 

“What spell did you use? Please… tell me it wasn’t… not again…” Harry looked her in the eye and slowly nodded. 

“SECTUMSEMPRA! HOW COULD YOU?” she yelled, and promptly slapped him across the face. 

“I feel like I don’t know you anymore sometimes,” Hermione continued, as Harry rubbed his stinging cheek, knowing how Malfoy felt now back in third year. She had a strong right hand. “Rushing off to save known Death Eaters, knowingly using Dark Magic, treating me and Ron badly, being secretive and elusive. It’s not you. Dumbledore said-”

“I don’t give a fuck what Dumbledore said,” Harry cut in. “He wasn’t always right you know. He’s another one I’m pissed off with right now. Look, I’m going to go home now before I say or do something I’ll really end up fucking regretting, like telling you how dare you chastise me, or put your hands on me, for using a spell in a situation where you weren’t even there ‘cause apparently not everyone is worth saving. I wasn’t proud of using the spell you know, but I did what I had to do!”

“Don’t you dare yell at her,” growled Ron, putting his arm round her, much like the previous argument they’d had in this very room. Harry laughed, and he knew it wasn’t a pleasant sound. But the combination of the stress of killing someone, the truth about Dumbledore and Snape, Malfoy, his friends’ refusal to back him up and how he had managed to hurt Ginny had all suddenly crashed down around him. Harry had snapped. 

“And you, Ron, look at you. Cuddling her every five minutes over every little thing because you’re so desperate for physical contact with her but you don’t have the guts to ask her out. You’re pathetic too. You just said you understood me, supported me even, but because Hermione disagrees with me you change sides immediately and stick up for her, turning against me. She even HIT me and you still take her side. Neither of you trusted my judgement; you both had no faith in me. Remus and I were facing eight Death Eaters alone, we did what we needed to do to survive.” He still was not going to mention Snape. “Do you know how that made me feel, how it still does? That I can’t rely on you two? I can accept you choosing not coming with me, but don’t you dare judge me for my actions. I’ve had enough. I’m going home.” And he opened the door and ran down the stairs and through the house, Hermione hot on his tail. They both stopped in the garden. 

“Harry! I’m so sorry I hit you, that was very wrong of me. Look, I’m coming with you; we can’t leave things like this.” Harry glared at her. 

“Remus put up very strong wards,” he said bitterly. “Designed to keep out any unwanted people. That includes you, Hermione. There’s no way you’re coming.” He took one last look at her tear-stricken face before turning on the spot and Disapparating away. 

He arrived back at Grimmauld Place and slammed the front door so hard that Walburga Black instantly began shrieking. Harry fired a Stinging Jinx at her, even though he knew it couldn’t do any damage, just to let out some feelings but other than that he just continued up to his room where he threw himself on to his bed and fought the tears that were forming. He hated fighting with Ron and Hermione and already he was regretting some of the things he had said to them, but he had had enough. He had planned to talk to Malfoy when he got home but he knew that would not be a good idea at the moment. He changed for bed, climbed under the sheets, and his last thought before sleep claimed him was what a shitty birthday it had been, and it how was partly his own fault.

****

Harry was woken a few hours later by a knocking at his door. He pushed his glasses onto his nose and cast a _Tempus_ Charm. It was half past two in the morning. He pointed his wand at the door and it opened. Standing in the doorway, looking alive, healthy and completely healed, was Draco Malfoy. Relief washed over Harry. 

“You look better than the last time I saw you,” he told the blond. Draco gave him a reluctant half-smile in response.

“Potter, can we talk?” he asked quietly. Harry sat upright in bed and nodded. He pointed his wand at the lamp on the table beside his bed and it flickered on, filling the gloomy room with a soft amber glow. The light caught Draco’s features and Harry was heartened to see there wasn’t a mark on him. His face was as perfect as ever. He gestured for Draco to sit on the bed, and brought his knees up to his chest to make room. Draco sat down. 

“I’ve spoken to Severus, and I’ve also read the letter Hecate delivered from my mother. Potter, I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would end up owing my life to you, but I obviously do. There is a good chance my parents do too, as I can’t imagine that…he… would have kept them alive after I died.” Malfoy winced at these words. “I just wanted to say thank you.” He got up to leave. Harry lightly grabbed his wrist and encouraged him to sit back down on the bed. 

“Was that all you wanted to talk about, Malfoy? Because surely that could have waited until the morning?” Draco sighed and turned to face Harry. 

“Why did you do it? Put yourself in danger, for me of all people?”

“Because you were worth saving. Because I could see what Voldemort was doing to you and no one- well, maybe except your fucking aunt- deserved what he was doing to you. I knew it was a risk but I had to take it. I couldn’t just let you die.” 

“But why?” Draco continued. “You know I’ve got the Dark Mark. You know I was instructed to kill Dumbledore. Why risk it all for a Death Eater?”

“Because you’re a fucking terrible Death Eater,” Harry replied evenly, an amused smile touching the corners of his mouth in response to Draco’s scandalised look. “Don’t glare at me like that, you know you are. You can’t torture, you can’t maim, and you certainly can’t kill. I know you can cast _Imperio_ because you cast it successfully on Madam Rosmerta, but I’ve watched you try and fail to cast _Crucio_ , and I know that you could never cast the _Avada Kedavra_. Draco, I know you couldn’t kill Dumbledore. Think back to that night, how many broomsticks did you see at the top of the Astronomy Tower?”

Draco paled and his mouth fell open. “You were _there_?” he asked incredulously. Harry nodded. 

“Dumbledore hit me with the Body-Bind Curse, and I was under my Cloak. I couldn’t move or help. Draco, I saw two things about you that night which meant I knew your life is worth something. Firstly, you were terrified. And not because you had to kill, but because you knew you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, even when it meant it would probably cost you your own life. I saw that again when you refused to torture Ollivander. You chose death rather than being the cause of another’s demise. That’s fucking brave, Draco. And then I saw you lower your wand. You weren’t going to do it. You were seconds from taking Dumbledore up on his offer, weren’t you?”

Draco thought for a long moment. “Yes,” he replied. “I would have come over to your side. But then it was too late, and Snape…” His voice trailed. Harry reached out and touched him on the shoulder. 

“Snape was doing what Dumbledore told him to do. Look, it’s a long story but do you think I’d let Snape in my house for any length of time if he was a murderer? Don’t feel guilty about that, none of it was your fault. Well, except letting the Death Eaters into school, but I know why you did that. Not that I’m saying it was a good idea or anything mind.” He looked into Draco’s eyes and was surprised to find a few tears falling. 

“When we fled the castle that night, and we went through the Forbidden Forest, do you know what I saw? Thestrals. I saw fucking _Thestrals,_ Harry. For the first time I could see them. I’d watched someone get killed, and knew it was m-my fault,” Draco said quietly. He fought against further tears. There was a silence between them. Draco struggled to compose himself, but somehow he managed. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. When he opened them he looked calm once more.

“I take it our boyhood rivalry is over,” Draco said wryly, and Harry was impressed to see how much he had is voice under control. He grinned at Draco. 

“I’m happy to call a truce if you are. Something small like saving one’s life does kind of change one’s perspective about one,” he said dryly. Draco laughed. 

“I’d say this bloody war was bigger than some stupid adolescent animosity too, wouldn’t you? I mean, we’ve been talking for little more than half an hour and we’re already addressing each other by our first times. Besides, I’ve been a dick to you for long enough. Ah fuck it, I was just a dick to everyone, not just to you. I’ve grown up in the past year. ” His right hand unconsciously grasped his left forearm. 

“I didn’t want to take this, you know,” he said, indicating the spot where Harry knew the Mark was branded. “It was all to impress my father. I’m somewhat of a disappointment to him you know. Probably because I didn’t seem to inherit the Malfoy Evil Fuck gene. Oh, I tried. But being a twat to you was about the highlight of my career as far as torturing someone went.” 

“Why did you hate me so much?” Harry suddenly asked before he could stop himself. Draco flushed. 

“Because you rejected me. And I was hurt, and embarrassed. So I made out I thought you were actually some sort of idiot. If I couldn’t be friends with you then I would torment you. ‘If you can’t join them, beat them’.” Draco looked Harry straight in the eye and his face softened. “The one thing I couldn’t do, however, was stay away from you. You’re impossible to ignore, Potter.” Harry’s eyes widened and his cheeks coloured slightly. “Why _did_ you refuse my hand on the train?” Draco asked, and Harry was sure he could detect genuine nerves in his voice. 

“Do you remember the first time we met? Funnily enough it was on my birthday- which was yesterday- six years ago. In Madam Malkin’s. I knew nothing about the wizarding world until my eleventh birthday, when Hagrid tracked down the Muggles I was living with and told me. I never had birthday presents or anything as a kid. That birthday was the first one in my life where I got a present and a cake. He took me to Diagon Alley. He was, literally, the only person in the world who was nice to me. The only friend I had.

“And then I spoke to you, and the first thing you did was insult him!” Harry continued. “You reminded me of my cousin, Dudley. I lived with him. Dudley… wasn’t nice. He was cruel, and a bully. You behaved just like him.” Draco winced. 

“And then, on the first train journey to Hogwarts, you managed to do exactly the same fucking thing and insult the second person who’d ever wanted to be my friend! You were vile to Ron. Why would I have taken your hand, Draco? If the roles were reversed would you have taken mine?” Draco shook his head.

“I guess not. But I was a stupid, stuck up, arrogant little shit then. And for what it’s worth, I am sorry. That’s not a phrase that comes out of my mouth often, so enjoy it.” He paused once more. “Look, I think I’m going to be here for the foreseeable future, if that is okay with you,” Harry nodded to show it was fine, “and I would like it if we could become friends. Or, at least be civil towards one another. I think we have a lot in common, or could have if we just stopped fighting all the time. It would be nicer for both of us I think if we spent our energy forming a friendship rather than annoying the piss out of each other, don’t you think?” Harry let the corners of his mouth curl in amusement.

“So, let me get this straight. You, as in Draco Malfoy, and me, as in Harry Potter, sworn enemies now for six years, are actually going to try to be friends?” said Harry, with a small smirk.

Draco smiled. “Friends,” he agreed. He held out his hand to Harry. 

“Now, this looks familiar. I’m getting déjà vu here,” Harry joked. Draco pretended to scowl. 

“Just don’t fucking reject it this time, prat,” he said. Harry laughed, and accepted the handshake. Draco let go of Harry’s hand and made to leave.

“I need sleep. I may be healed but I’m still exhausted. Goodnight, Scarhead,” Draco said from the doorway.

“Night, Ferret,” Harry retorted. His door closed and Harry could swear he heard a faint chuckle from behind it. He smiled, removed his glasses and extinguished the lamp once more. _Really,_ Harry thought sleepily, _Draco is actually quite nice, once he drops the act of His Royal Bastardness. I could get used to him living here._ This was his final thought before sleep claimed him once more and he slipped willingly into oblivion. 


	4. Malfoy's Muggle Mayhem

It was a couple of days after Harry and Draco had agreed to try friendship when Draco suggested they both try and get out of Grimmauld Place for the day. Harry stared at him, incredulous.

“Draco, what planet are you living on exactly? I’ve got important stuff I need to be getting on with, and Voldemort and all the Death Eaters will be looking for us! We can’t exactly just take a day trip to Diagon Alley, or have a leisurely stroll through Hogsmeade,” Harry had reasoned. Draco had pouted and sulked when Harry had said this which caused the darker boy to sigh in exasperation. 

“Potter, I’m bored! There’s nothing to do, your books are all crap and I’m fed up! There must be something we can do. Please?”

“Why don’t you go and have a lovely talk about the good old days your great aunt again?” Harry chortled whilst Draco scowled. Harry was referring to the incident the previous day when Remus had shut the door too loudly on his way out and woke Walburga Black up. The portrait was in the middle of her usual screeching and condemning of all ‘filthy blood traitors and Mudbloods’ when she spotted Draco and her expression had changed. 

“Dragon!” she had called, the delight evident in her voice. “My ickle Drakey poo! Is that really you? My my, haven’t you grown? Come and talk with your favourite auntie for a while!” Harry had turned away, shoulders shaking in poorly disguised laughter, as Draco’s face went from neutral, to confused, and finally settled on horrified realisation all in the space of ten seconds. His cheeks flushed and his eyes widened. He turned to face Harry.

“Harry,” he had snarled under his breath, “why the fuck is your house the Black residence and what is _she_ doing on your wall?”

“Sirius left Grimmauld Place to me,” he had replied, still chuckling. “That’s Sirius’ mum. Your mum’s auntie I think. Only just recognised the house, have you? You’ve been here a week.”

“I was asleep for three days of that, and besides, it looks different now to when I was here as a child. Also I was only five years old when I last visited and came here with mother who nursed Great Aunt Walburga whilst the old bat was dying. She always called me… well you heard what she called me.” Draco blushed a deep shade of scarlet and Harry had to force back another grin. “But why is she still on your wall?”

“Permanent Sticking Charm. Can’t get her down. I think she wants to talk to you. Catch up on Black family gossip. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting you know,” Harry said, before turning for the kitchen, laughing all the way. Draco hadn’t managed to escape for two hours and when he finally emerged in the kitchen and Harry had gazed up from his copy of _Quidditch Weekly_ when Draco entered the look on his face had instantly convinced Harry that it was best to keep his mouth shut.

Draco shuddered at the memory. “I’m not talking to that senile old woman again,” he said in a disgusted tone. Harry smiled at him. Maybe he could have just one day off his research for Horcrux locations. 

“There is one possibility, but you probably won’t like it,” he said. Draco cocked his head to indicate he was listening. “We go out for the day. In Muggle London”. 

Draco narrowed his eyes and glared at Harry. “Absolutely not,” he replied icily. 

“Why not? We’re not likely to have a bunch of Death Eaters tailing us for one thing, and it will be something new. You might even have fun,” Harry teased. 

“I’m not going to spend a day with bloody Muggles doing stupid Muggle things,” Draco replied stubbornly. 

“That’s fine,” said Harry, perfectly cheerfully. “I guess we’ll just have to find something to do around here after all then. Shall we go and look at the library again? We might be able to find some books published after the 1950s, if we look hard enough.” He opened the drawing room door for Draco. “After you, Drakey Poo.”

Draco stood to the spot. Harry could almost see the cogs whirring in Draco’s mind, the conflicting parts of his brain battling for the victory. The whole scene greatly amused Harry. Eventually the part of Draco that really, _really_ just wanted to get out of the house before he suffered cabin fever triumphed over the anti-Muggle part. He threw his arms into the air in a submissive gesture. 

“Fine!” he yelled. “Tomorrow, then.” Then he stormed out of the room. Harry’s eyes followed him out of the room and up the stairs, whilst his lips curled at the sides. He felt quite proud that at that moment he had behaved just as Slytherin as his former nemesis, and came out on top. 

****

“I can’t go out in public wearing this.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause I look fucking stupid.” 

“You look fine.”

“You would say that. You have the worst dress sense in the world and seem to dress in the first items your hands touch in the morning.”

“Then use a charm to improve them if you don’t like them.”

“They’ll still be awful. You can’t polish a turd, Potter.”

“Fine. Then wear big floaty wizarding robes in Muggle London, which won’t get you stared at at all. See if I care. It’s my Muggle clothes or your wizarding robes. Take your pick.”

“OK, you win you git. I’ll wear them. But we’re going clothes shopping as soon as we get there and I’m going to buy some decent Muggle clothes.”

“Whatever, Malfoy. Can we just go now? You vain sod.”

“Piss off, Potter.”

Harry grinned. He whipped out his wand and cast a Shrinking Charm on the jeans Draco had borrowed from him. They clung more tightly to his trim figure. _Much better_ , Harry thought, his eyes staring appraisingly, before herding Draco out of the door before he could find something else to complain about.

****

Harry and Draco Apparated under Harry’s Invisibility Cloak (in case any Death Eaters were watching the house) to Holloway Road tube station, which was right near Grimmauld Place, before removing the cloak and heading into the station. Draco had moaned about having to use “Muggle transport” and asked why they couldn’t just Apparate to where they were going. Harry had informed him, rather sarcastically, that they were having a proper “Muggle day” (much to Draco’s chagrin) and that when Londoners went into central London they used the Tube, not Apparition, Floo or broomsticks. Draco stood in the, what he considered to be, filthy Underground station feeling rather scared about travelling in a Muggle vehicle that went under the ground, whilst Harry bought the tickets from the clerk. Litter was scattered over the floor from an overflowing rubbish bin just outside the station. A sticky white substance Harry had told him was Muggle confectionary that was chewed then discarded had attached itself to the sole of Draco’s shoe when he accidentally trod in it; a discreet _Tergeo_ had removed it but he was still revolted. He noticed a man in an official-looking suit staring at him. Draco stared back, slightly looking down his nose at the man. Then Harry returned with their tickets, and he subtly showed Draco how to insert the ticket into the machine to make the gate open.

The next thing Draco was made wary of was the moving metal staircase. The moving staircases in Hogwarts were one thing, but this was _Muggle-made_ and therefore obviously potentially lethal. He gingerly stepped onto one of the steps and held on to the bannister in a death-grip, staring at the advertisements for various musicals in the West End which followed the metal stairs’ descent. 

“What’s he doing?” he asked Harry, indicating a man playing a violin as they stepped off the escalator. 

“He’s busking,” Harry replied, then, in response to Draco’s blank expression, added, “he’s playing for money. He plays, and people throw coins into his violin case.” Draco thought the music-playing Muggle should go and get a real job but didn’t say this to Harry. Instead he grabbed Harry’s forearm tightly in fear as a loud roaring noise filled his ears and a gust of wind blew past him. Frightened grey eyes met the amused green of Harry’s. Harry laughed at him. 

“It’s just the train coming into one of the platforms, get a grip, you bloody pillock. People are staring.” 

They stepped onto the platform labelled ‘southbound’ where a sign with lights told him the next train was in two minutes. Draco read a poster for a product called Coca Cola, which was something that was apparently supposed to be drunk, and another for a musical band, which was now ‘out on CD’, whatever ‘ CD’ meant. Then Draco jumped once more when a bodiless voice, that sounded as if it had been spoken through a Sonorous Charm, informed him to ‘mind the gap’ repeatedly. He looked around wildly for the speaker but couldn’t see one. 

A distant rumble could be heard, and the wind picked up. The rumble got louder and louder then suddenly a train that looked nothing like the Hogwarts Express shot out of the tunnel and filled the entire platform. Draco felt Harry grab his wrist and they moved to the doors. 

Draco glared at three Muggles who had _dared_ to brush against him as he stepped onto the train and furiously scrubbed at his clothes with his hands where they touched as if to remove some kind of invisible slime they had left behind on him. There were no seats free so he was forced to stand, pushed close against Harry as more people were shovelled onto the train like cattle. Harry had an odd expression on his face at this, but he didn’t seem displeased. 

As the train continued to hurtle them through London, Draco thought it was noisy, smelly and being in such close contact with strangers was severely unhealthy. _Uncivilised disgusting beasts,_ he thought inwardly, scowling at a teenage girl who had been smiling at him and trying to catch his eye.

After a quick tube change and another scary ride up on the metal moving stairs Harry and Draco arrived in Oxford Street, where, Harry had told him, Draco would be able to buy himself some decent Muggle clothing. Draco thought he had earned a few minutes’ peace to compose himself after his harrowing Underground experience, but the thousands of Muggles pouring out of the station and herding him towards the exit had other ideas. _I really, really fucking hate Muggle transport,_ he thought, and considered sulking for an hour. At least it would make him feel better. 

****

Harry thought Draco had coped quite well so far. Well, he could have been worse. He’d not had any outbursts about ‘Muggles behaving like feral animals’ yet anyway. Harry was leading them towards Selfridges and was highly amused by Draco’s behaviour. Buses, black cabs, the large amount of Muggles- Draco’s face evidently showed he found distaste in them all. 

When they entered Selfridges Harry suddenly realised something. He turned to Draco. 

“How are you going to pay for all your clothes?” he asked. “I have about fifty pounds in Muggle currency on me but that’s not going to get us a lot, especially as I know you’ll probably want the clothes that cost a bloody fortune.” 

“I have a special card that’s linked to Gringotts,” Draco told Harry quietly, to make sure no passing shoppers could overhear. “The goblins issue them to wizards and witches for shopping and stuff in the Muggle world, especially as so many of us don’t understand the Muggle currency. My parents got me one linked to the Malfoy vault just in case of an emergency and I found myself in the Muggle world. They’re created to work on those card readers just like their credit cards and look exactly the same too, even made out of that vile plastic they use. We simply hand over the card to pay, the goblins calculate the Galleon- pound exchange rate and the money is debited from our vaults. The goblins then pay the people we owe the money to in Muggle currency. It’s actually quite simple really.” 

Harry had to agree with this idea, and was impressed. It was one of the more logical solutions he’d seen wizards come up with for mingling in Muggle society. 

Draco cheered up immensely once he was looking at clothes. He’d selected a few items, and had even insisted on buying some new jeans and tops for Harry, which Harry had happily let Draco pick out. Then Draco picked up a pair of leather trousers. 

“What is the leather made from?” Draco asked him, hold the trousers against himself and looking in the mirror.

“Cow hide, normally,” Harry replied. 

“Dragon hide is so much better,” Draco snorted. Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, but Muggles don’t exactly have access to an abundance of dragon skin, do they? Are you getting them or not?” 

“Don’t know. I’ll need to try them on. You can tell me what you think.” And he pulled Harry towards the changing rooms. 

Several minutes later Draco emerged, clad in skin-tight black leather trousers and a white tight-fitting, long-sleeved t-shirt. His grey eyes were alive and sparkling and his silvery blond hair was slightly rustled from where he’d pulled the t-shirt over his head giving him a ‘just shagged’ look. Harry’s eyes widened and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He was just thankful it wasn’t rushing anywhere else- because he decided that the sight in front of him was beautiful and bordering on obscene. Harry tried to banish the thought from his mind. It didn’t work.

“What do you think then?” Draco asked, although Harry knew Draco knew he looked good. No, not good. Fucking awesome. Draco had just come out in the clothes to show off. He nodded his head and tried to control the images his brain was conjuring at that moment. _This is Malfoy_ , a small voice somewhere in his mind said. _What the bloody hell are you doing eyeing him of all people up?_ Harry snapped out of his thoughts and swallowed hard. 

“They… er… um, look really good,” he stammered, willing himself not to blush. Draco smirked. 

“I’ll get these as well then. They make my arse look good.” He looked Harry in the eye when he said this and Harry realised he was gaping like a guppy out of water.

As Draco went to get changed, Harry couldn’t help but think Hogwarts robes were very good at hiding the human body, and, if they weren’t, maybe he’d have worked out he was gay a lot sooner than he actually had. He’d thought he’d been in love with Ginny, but something had never felt quite right. He did end things with her for her own protection, that was partly the truth- but as soon as they had got together Harry just felt that something wasn’t clicking between them. And the time they’d attempted to have sex… well, Harry tried not to focus on that particular disaster for any length of time. It had been one night, about a week before Dumbledore had died, when it clicked. He was dreaming, and in the dream he was with another man in a very sexual way, and… well, Harry woke in a state that Ginny had certainly never managed to get him in and it was many minutes before he could move with any dignity. 

_ But just don’t fall for fucking Malfoy,  _ the voice insisted. Harry thought it was advice worth listening to.

****

“That’s a total of four hundred and thirty-three pounds then please, sir,” said the cashier. Harry did a quick calculation and mouthed, “About ninety Galleons,” to Draco when the cashier wasn’t looking, who nodded to show his thanks. Draco handed over the Gringotts' card, and the cashier took it. Suddenly he snorted.

“Is there a problem?” Draco asked cordially, but the cashier shook his head.

“My apologies, sir. I just saw your name on your card. It’s very unusual. I’ve never come across the name ‘Draco’ before. It means Dragon doesn’t it? Your parents must have been hippies or something. And I remember French from school- Malfoy means bad faith doesn’t it.” 

Harry groaned aloud. Whilst he was confident that Draco had no idea what a ‘hippy’ was so couldn’t be upset by that particular reference, he knew Draco was sensitive about his forename and fiercely proud of his surname. He looked into Draco’s face and cringed when he found a Malfoy mask- the haughtiest and most arrogant one- plastered into place. 

“I’ll have you know,” Draco began in an icy tone, “that I come from a wealthy, aristocratic line of noble pure stock. The name Malfoy- as does my family’s home and estate- stretches back generations. My mother’s side of the family frequently name their children after celestial bodies. I’m named after the constellation Draco. Better than one of your common names. What is your name anyway?” Both Draco’s and Harry’s eyes travelled to a name badge displaying the name ‘Wayne King, happy to serve you’. Harry coughed back his own laughter whilst Draco snorted in contempt. 

“Do you really think you have the right to cast judgements upon anyone else’s name, when you yourself have the most ridiculous name I’ve ever come across? Is your name a self-fulfilling prophecy, you bloody great tosser? My parents named me after stars; yours, however, chose masturbation. Then again, I don’t know why I’d expect some sense of intelligence given they’re just a pair of great idiotic Mug-”

“DRACO” yelled Harry, and not a second too soon. “Just pay and we can go and grab lunch, OK?”

Thankfully Draco ended his little ‘chat’ then, and simply waited for the red-faced, close-to-tears cashier to close the sale. Then he took his purchases without saying thank you, and swept out of the shop. Harry turned to offer a small apologetic smile to Wayne King before following him out.

“Well, that was amusing,” Harry said sarcastically once they were back on Oxford Street. “Let’s go and get lunch before you manage to get the magical law enforcement onto us for actually breaking the statute of secrecy. Prick.” He dragged Draco across the busy street and into the first place he came across, which happened to be a McDonald’s. 

“Sit there. I’ll get you something to eat,” Harry commanded. For once Draco did as he was told. Harry went up to the counter and returned a few minutes later with burgers, fries and Cokes for them both. 

“Coca Cola!” Draco cried excitedly when Harry relayed the food items to him. “I saw a poster about this on the tube!” he clearly didn’t notice the ten or so people now staring openly at him. Draco lowered his mouth to the straw and sucked in a mouthful. His eyes widened in surprise and he choked on it. 

“Harry,” he spluttered “why is my drink effervescing like a bloody potion?” 

“It’s carbonated. It has a gas called carbon dioxide in it. It’s supposed to do that,” Harry replied patiently. “Muggles call it a ‘fizzy drink’. Now eat your burger.”

“Where’s the cutlery?”

“Pick it up with your hands.”

Harry was sure he caught the words “uncivilised,” “supposed to be a restaurant,” and “no better than animals,” spewing from Draco but ignored him. He picked up his burger and began to eat. 

Draco removed his own burger from its cardboard packaging, and examined it as a jeweller might examine a Fabergé egg when trying to spot forgeries. He took an experimental bite, and Harry was relieved to see that this, apparently, passed the Malfoy test without further comment. In fact Draco ate the entire thing, before taking another slurp of his “weird Muggle drink thing.” 

Of course, the fries were next to face appraisal. By this point Harry wondered if the people staring might think Draco may be on drugs- Draco had picked up a long chip, held it between the thumb and forefinger of both hands, and held it to the light, twirling it between his fingers, before asking what they were made of. Harry ignored him, concentrating on his own food. Giving up, Draco ate the chip, but these failed the exam. 

“Eugh. Salty, greasy vile things,” he said, pushing them away. 

Ten minutes later Harry and Draco emerged once more onto Oxford Street and Harry had to laugh. He wondered what Slytherin House would say if they knew Harry Potter had just taken Draco Malfoy out to eat in a Muggle burger chain. He couldn’t wait to tell Snape when they got home.

****

“So, Muggles get pierced? And wear jewellery through their body parts?” 

“Yup. C’mon, let’s go.”

“No. I want something pierced. Ooh, look, tongue! I’m getting that!”

Harry sighed. He wondered if it was the sugar from the Coke, or the colourings in it which weren’t present in any wizarding products affecting his behaviour, or indeed Draco was actually enjoying his Muggle day now, but he was bitterly regretting taking a rather hyped-up Draco through Soho on the way to Leicester Square now. They’d already passed a few sex shops with suggestive and erotic merchandise in the windows (that hadn’t helped with Harry’s Inappropriate Draco Thoughts one single iota) which Draco had stopped and gaped at, and now Draco wanted a tongue piercing. He very reluctantly followed Draco into the piercing studio. 

“So, Muggles can have all these different things pierced,” Draco said as he read the price list. “Eyebrows, lips, nose, tongue, nipples, and, oh… Harry, what’s a Prince Albert?”

Harry’s cheeks burned and he put his head in his hands. “It’s a piercing a man gets on his… you know,” he said, and looked up at Draco, gesturing with his hands where exactly the piercing was. Draco’s eyebrows are almost in his hair. 

“On their… but _why?_ Why would anyone get their dick pierced?” 

Harry was spared answering as Draco was then called through to the piercing room. He emerged fifteen minutes later looking close to tears, a small trickle of blood on his lower lip. _Stands up to Voldemort’s torture with the bravery of a Gryffindor but can’t cope with a small piercing,_ Harry mused to himself with a snort of amusement. Draco paid and they left. 

“Does it hurt?” Harry asked. Draco just nodded sadly. Harry bit back the chuckle once more. “Do you want me to fix it?” More enthusiastic nodding. “Right. Come down here then.” Harry guided Draco down an alley behind the shops, quickly checked for any Muggles, and pulled out his wand. “Open your mouth.” He pointed his wand at Draco’s swollen and bleeding tongue and quietly muttered, “ _Episkey.”_ Straight away Draco’s tongue was healed and back to its normal size. Harry tried to ignore the fact that the piercing looked incredibly… sexy. Before he could stop himself he reached to Draco’s lower lip and wiped the blood away with his thumb. Draco closed his eyes at the contact. 

“How does that feel now?” Harry asked him softly. 

“Thanks,” Draco murmured, “completely better. C’mon, we’d better get going.” Then the pair of them left the alley. “Where are we going now anyway?”

“You’re going to learn to bowl,” said Harry. 

“To what?” Draco asked in genuine confusion. 

“You’ll see.”

****

The first thing Draco noticed about the bowling alley was the intense bright lights. The second was the overbearingly loud music blaring out from wherever Muggle music blared from. And within a few seconds of observing he had worked out what bowling was, not that he could see the point in it from what he could see. ‘Pick up a ball and throw it at some white stick things in order to knock as many over as you can’ didn’t sound that fun. But, he reminded himself, it was still better than sitting alone and bored shitless in Grimmauld Place. 

“What’s the name of this place again?” Draco asked Harry. 

“Trocadero,” Harry replied. “And after we’re done bowling we’ll go up the escalator and watch a film.” Draco paled. _Not another stupid Muggle metal moving stairs thing_. Draco hated those. 

“I’ve got us a lane, just the one game,” Harry said. “Take your shoes off.” Draco looked scandalised. 

“Why, in the name of Merlin, do I need to take my shoes off?” he asked. Harry indicated all the other bowlers. 

“Look at their shoes, Draco,” he said. Draco paled and his eyes widened in realisation. 

“No. Potter, NO. I’m not wearing a pair of shoes that other people- sweaty, disgusting Muggles- have worn thousands of times before!” Harry folded his arms and calmly stood his ground. Eventually Draco gave an impatient sigh and removed his shoes. He handed them over to the troglodyte behind the counter with a small whimper. 

“What size shoes?” the troglodyte asked. Draco didn’t know. Wizards’ clothing didn’t work the same way as Muggles- it was all made large them custom-shrunk to fit. Including shoes. Draco was slightly panicking when Harry saved the day. 

“He’s from Scandinavia; their shoe sizes are different to ours so he’s a bit confused. He looks like he’s about a size bigger than me. So a pair of eights and a pair of nines please.” If the troglodyte was suspicious he didn’t show it. He slammed the shoes in front of Draco, which he found rather rude, then Draco picked them off the counter and walked over to a seat to put them on. Draco had to admit Harry had done a good job, the shoes fitted fine. He just found the idea of putting his feet into a pair of shoes someone else had worn utterly repulsive. 

Harry entered their names into the computer thingy, and Draco saw Harry was bowling first. Harry picked up the 10lb ball and bowled it beautifully down the centre of the lane, taking eight pins (Harry had given him the correct name for them) with it. With his second ball he knocked the remaining two down. 

“How did you get so good at this?” Draco demanded. Harry smiled. 

“I guess I’m good at sports that involve balls,” he replied. Draco smirked at him and Harry blushed at the stupid unintended double entendre his innocent words had carried. Draco stood up and picked up the same ball Harry had used. He took aim, and bowled. Instantly it rolled into the gutter. Harry laughed. Draco scowled, but drew his wand out of his pocket and slid it up the arm of the long sleeved top he was wearing. He picked the bowling ball up one more time. This time he discreetly aimed his wand at the ball and muttered, “ _Locomotor bowling ball.”_ He swung his arm back and let go of the ball, delighted that he was about to get a spare, or whatever it was Harry had called it, when he heard Harry whisper “ _Finite Incantatem,”_ and once more Draco’s ball ended up in the gutter, much to Harry’s laughter. 

“Try not to cheat next go, Draco,” he said between giggles. “It’s very _Slytherin_ of you and all that, but it’s far more rewarding to actually play the game.”

“How did you know I was doing that?” Draco asked, surprised and grudgingly impressed. 

“I didn’t,” Harry replied. “I have, however, spent six years beating you in every game we’ve played so figured you would try something like this to try and get the win. I cast the _Finite_ on the off chance, and I was right.” 

The game progressed and, to Draco’s surprise, when he actually tried rather than just use magic he wasn’t too bad. Of course Harry still won, and by quite a margin, but at least Draco managed to hit some pins. He even managed to congratulate Harry, much to Harry’s surprise. 

They had a while before the film started so Harry decided to show Draco the arcades. They each had a few turns on various games before Draco spotted a toy grabber. 

“What’s that?” he asked.

“You put coins in the slot and then use these levers to try and grab a toy,” Harry replied. Draco thought that sounded ridiculously easy. He took some of the coins Harry had given him to play with in the arcade and studied them carefully until he found the one marked ‘Twenty Pence’ and inserted it in the slot. Then he manoeuvred the levers, positioning them perfectly over a soft bear. The grabber dropped, and picked up a toy. Draco was about the revel in his victory when the grabber suddenly opened its grip and dropped the toy back into the pile of cuddly teddies. Draco frowned. 

“That’s broken,” he said. “It picked it up then released it again.”

“That’s part of the game,” Harry explained. “Those things always do that. They’re really hard to win on.”

“And Muggles know this, yet they still put money in them?” Draco asked, and Harry nodded. Draco couldn’t contemplate that. Who would voluntarily waste their money? The Malfoy fortune came from careful investments and respecting money, not as good as throwing it away. It was things like this that made wizards better than Muggles. Muggles really were stupid. 

“Well, I want a teddy. I paid my money, I deserve the prize.” 

He took out his wand and tapped the toy grabber, uttering “ _Reparo.”_ Harry rolled his eyes but looked on in amusement, as Draco inserted another coin, and once more picked up the teddy. This time the grabber did not let go until it was hovered over the chute, and Draco yelled triumphantly as he picked up a garish blue teddy bear wearing a frilly tutu and holding a sign that said something that wasn’t even in English. Still, he had won it, earned it, and therefore it was his. Maybe he’d give it to Harry later. 

“I need the loo,” he announced to Harry. He returned a couple of minutes later holding a small box. 

“What have you got there?” Harry asked. Draco handed Harry the box and once more Harry turned scarlet. 

“Why, in the same of all that is Holy, have you bought these?” Harry asked him, handing the box back.

“What do you mean? There was another game in the toilets. I had to put in some coins, pull a lever and I won these,” Draco replied. Harry was toyed between huge embarrassment, amusement and complete and utter exasperation at Draco’s ignorance of anything Muggle. 

“Draco, you’ve won nothing. That wasn’t a game. It was a condom machine.” 

“And what are condoms?”

“They’re… oh for fuck’s sake, Draco, do you know nothing about Muggles at all? A condom is something a man wears on his… you know… to stop a woman getting pregnant or diseases getting spread around when he has sex. And you’re walking around waving the box in the air like some kind of moron.” 

Draco instantly flushed and shoved the box inside his pocket. 

“Let’s just go and watch your film,” he said quietly.

****

Draco stepped off the escalator with relief and followed Harry into the cinema. 

“What’s the name of the film we’re watching?” he asked. 

“Titanic,” Harry replied. 

“And what’s it about?”

“It’s about The Titanic,” Harry said dryly. 

“And is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Yes it’s… oh bloody hell. Right. This is a film, and a lot of it is fictional, but it’s based on a real historical event. The Titanic was a ship that was sailing from England to America in 1912 but it hit an iceberg in the Atlantic and sunk and about fifteen hundred people died.” 

Draco bought the tickets thanks to his Gringotts’ card and then he and Harry bought drinks and snacks. Draco stared at the popcorn wondering if he should eat it or use it for packing material, whilst gazing suspiciously at the hot dog Harry handed him. He was pleased to see Harry had bought more Coke. He could get used to that. They walked into the cinema and found good seats, and the pair of them settled down to watch the film. 

****

“Are you okay, Draco?”

“I… yes.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Can we go home now?”

“Of course. I think I’ve inflicted enough Muggle stuff on you for one day. Come on, let’s Apparate,” Harry said kindly. Draco gave a watery smile at this, and Harry checked for Muggles before throwing his cloak over them. Then he gripped Draco tightly and turned on the spot. 

“Harry, can we talk?” Draco said as soon as the front door to Grimmauld Place was shut. Harry nodded, pausing only to inform Snape of their return. He led Draco up to his room. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned. Draco nodded. 

“Yeah, I am, it’s just, I, I mean- all those _people,_ Harry. All dead. We could have cast Levitation Charms to keep us out of the water, or Warming Charms, or just not have had to have travelled on the bloody ship in the first place, but the Muggles couldn’t save themselves could they. They must have been terrified.” Harry smiled kindly at Draco. 

“It was only a film, Draco,” he said. 

“But it wasn’t, was it? You told me it really happened, that people really died in that. I watched it, and I didn’t see Muggles. I saw people. It reminded me of the ones V…Voldemort killed the night you rescued me. Harry, I may not ever understand Muggles. I may not even like them very much. But, fuck, they don’t deserve to be treated badly and killed just because they can’t do magic. I already thought that, but today I’ve realised something else, too. They’re not stupid, are they? They just can’t do what we do because they don’t have magic, not because they have inferior intelligence.” 

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Draco Malfoy, showing compassion and care for Muggles? And speaking Voldemort’s name? He reached out and touched Draco on the shoulder. 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. And other pure-bloods. For years really. Muggles are not stupid. In fact, many are incredibly intelligent. They’ve achieved so much without magic, things they have to work incredibly hard to create, rather than just point a wand and say some words in Latin. They build a craft called a space shuttle that actually took people to the moon. Wizards have never managed to leave the planet. Look at computers, Muggle medicine! All created through intelligence.” 

He paused, wondering if this would rock the friendship he and Draco had secured today, before deciding it needed to be said. 

“Draco, it’s the pure-bloods who are uneducated and ignorant. Not the Muggles, not the Muggle-borns. Honestly, at Hogwarts you’re one of the best students. You’re clever, and articulate, and incredibly academic. But today you have acted like a complete and utter idiot at times, over incredibly normal, everyday things. You may understand wizarding customs and laws perfectly, but you’re exceptionally ignorant about a huge portion of the world. Not even knowing about things like the Titanic, for example! You need to educate yourself.”

“We can’t let Voldemort win,” Draco said quietly. “He’s going to kill as many of them as he can.” 

“Draco,” Harry continued, very softly, “in the 1930s and 40s there was this fucked-up megalomaniac called Hitler who decided that only one particular type of person deserved to be treated like a human being. He did- unspeakable- things to millions of people. If you weren’t the right race, creed, religion, sexuality, then he executed you. The whole world went to war to try and stop him, and millions and millions of people were killed. But we stopped him. He didn’t win. Tyrants cannot be allowed to win. Voldemort is nothing but another Hitler, but in the wizarding world instead of the Muggle. I’m going to stop him, Draco. I’m not going to let him destroy the Muggles, and the Muggle-borns, and even some of the half-bloods. He is going to be defeated. I am going to win.” 

Draco stared at him, wide-eyed. The, to Harry’s surprise, he threw his arms around him. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into Harry’s neck. “For saving me, for having outstanding courage that I can’t even begin to understand. For risking it all to bring him down. Heck, even thank you for today.” He smiled. 

“I’m going to bed. Today was… a real experience.” He whipped out the garish teddy and offered it to Harry. Harry chuckled. 

“Thanks. I’ll treasure it always. Goodnight, Draco.”

****

Harry’s thoughts were loud and obnoxious that night. He was trying to sleep, but they wouldn’t let him. They kept showing him images of Draco in leather trousers, Draco poking his pierced tongue out at him. They showed him Draco defending Muggles, speaking Voldemort’s name aloud. His hand reached out and stroked the teddy. 

“Oh fuck,” he said into the dark. _I did warn you,_ the voice in his head offered unhelpfully, as Harry finally managed to fall asleep. 


	5. The First Horcrux

Harry threw himself into Horcrux research in the week that followed his day out in London in both in an attempt to distract himself from his hideously inappropriate crush on Draco Malfoy, and also to try and actually get somewhere; it had been two weeks since his arrival at Grimmauld Place, and Harry really felt he should be making progress by now. But, he finally had to admit, he wasn’t getting anywhere with it. He couldn’t think of any possible locations, other than Hogwarts, which Dumbledore had thought incredibly unlikely. He once more took out the note that was inside the fake Horcrux, and re-examined it.

_ To the Dark Lord,  _

_ I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know it is I who discovered your secret. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.  _

_ -RAB _

He was no closer to discovering who RAB was. He was going to have to talk to Snape- something that, despite their fragile truce and Dumbledore’s letter urging the pair to work together, he had so far been trying to avoid. He picked up the note and the fake Horcrux and made his way down to the kitchens. 

****

“Why, in the name of Merlin, did you not confide this information in me days ago?” Snape finished reading the note and put it down on the kitchen table. He sounded exasperated. Harry flushed slightly.

“I don’t know. I guess I still wanted to do this alone really. But I really haven’t got a clue. I don’t know who RAB is, I don’t know where the real locket is, and I haven’t got a single idea where the other ones are, except Nagini and I can’t exactly march up to her and kill her right now, can I? And I don’t suppose you have any idea who this RAB is either, right?” Harry said.

“Actually, imbecilic brat, I do. Look, it’s addressed to ‘the Dark Lord’. Now, who does this suggest wrote the note to you?” 

Harry thought for a moment. He’d only ever heard one group of people refer to Voldemort as ‘the Dark Lord’.

“Voldemort was betrayed by a Death Eater,” he surmised. “But I still don’t know who that was, I mean, I’m not exactly up to date on the A to Z of servants of megalomaniacs you know.”

Snape rolled his eyes and let out an audible sigh of annoyance.

“Are you being deliberately obtuse or are you simply this idiotic naturally? Think what I was, Potter. Did it not occur to you that, even if you do not happen to have extensive knowledge of the Death Eaters, then perhaps I would? And, as it so happens, there was only one Death Eater with those three initials. The person who stole the Horcrux was Regulus Black.”

Harry’s mouth opened in shock. 

“Sirius’ brother?” he asked. Snape nodded. 

“Regulus’ middle name was Arcturus. He turned his back on the Death Eaters a couple of years before the fall of the Dark Lord and lost his life because of it. He is the perfect candidate for having done something like this. I’m certain this is who RAB was.”

“But, then, the locket could be anywhere!” Harry said, with a panic in his voice. “What if Voldemort discovered him in possession of it when they killed him and moved it to another location? What if he managed to actually destroy it? We’ll never know, and I can’t defeat Voldemort until we do just in case! What if he brought it back here, and then…” 

But he stopped talking, and turned pale. 

“Shit,” he whispered. “Shit, shit shit!” Snape stared at him. 

“Potter,” he said gently and not unkindly. “Are you feeling well?” Harry shook his head, wide-eyed.

“There was a locket,” he said. “Here, two summers ago, when we- Hermione, the Weasleys and I- were cleaning this house so it could be used as the Order headquarters. I remember it because we all tried to open it and no one could, and then… then… Oh shit.” He put his head in his hands. “Snape, we HAD the Horcrux. And we bloody threw it out.” He groaned loudly and banged his fist hard onto the table, loudly enough to even cause Snape to start slightly. 

“If we actually threw it out we’re never going to find it. But Kreacher kept taking stuff out of the bags and hiding it. If he took the locket…” A small glimmer of hope flickered. “If he stole it back, then it could be here still. I’ll summon him and ask him. Kreacher!”

With a small _crack_ the house elf instantly Apparated into the kitchen. 

“Kreacher’s half-blood master summoned Kreacher?” he said, dislike oozing from every syllable. Harry ignored it. 

“Kreacher, two summers ago, when Hermione, the Weasleys and I were staying here with Sirius, we cleaned the house and removed several articles. I already know you reclaimed some of these as you were caught. Kreacher, I need an honest, straight answer from you. Did you, or did you not, take a locket from a sack of items to be thrown away?” The elf paused, trying to find a loophole that would mean he could avoid answering. Evidently he failed to find one. 

“Kreacher took the locket.”

“And why- exactly please- did you take the locket?” Harry probed, relief flooding through him.

“Kreacher took the locket because Master Regulus had told Kreacher it was important. Kreacher liked Master Regulus. Master Regulus was a good boy. Mistress Walburga was proud to have master Regulus for a son, unlike the Sirius boy. Master Regulus said Kreacher had to hide the locket and try to destroy it if Master was no longer around to try. Only two days later master was carried off by Death Eaters and Kreacher never saw Master again. Kreacher tried to destroy the locket but no elf magic worked. Kreacher failed.” With that he let out a he wail and he tried to bang his head on the table. Harry restrained him just in time. 

“And where is the locket now, Kreacher? I want the exact location.” 

“Kreacher took it to Mistress Narcissa’s Manor, on the night Kreacher visited nearly two years ago,” Kreacher told him between sobs. Harry could almost feel his heart sink at this. It was in the Manor, and so was bloody Voldemort. “Kreacher wanted Master Regulus’ locket safe where you or one of the Weasley brats wouldn’t find it and knew Malfoy Manor was a safe location. So Kreacher gave it to Mistress Narcissa. Kreacher knows no more.”

Harry shut his eyes. On one hand, at least he knew where the locket was now, and with Draco’s knowledge of the Manor it probably wouldn’t be too difficult to locate. On the other hand, having to return to the building he’d barely got out alive from just a fortnight ago, whilst Voldemort still resided there, was hugely unappealing. Still, Harry knew, it would have to be done. 

“Thank you, Kreacher. Please return to Hogwarts now.” Kreacher glared at Harry but managed to bow, and with another _crack_ he Disapparated. 

“Well,” said Harry, turning to Snape. “I’ve come further in the last half an hour than I have in six weeks at least.” He stood up abruptly. 

“Where are you going, Potter?” Snape asked. 

“To ask Draco to write to his mother. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell him what the locket is,” he said, in response to Snape’s obvious protest that was about to come. “I’ll just tell him it’s something important we need to find. I’d do it myself, but Hecate is the only owl that can reach them, and only a letter from Draco’s hand can get through their wards. You know as well as I do we have to do this.” 

Snape paused for a moment before giving a resigned sigh. 

“You’re correct, Draco must send the letter. But do not reveal more than you have to. I do not think for a second that Draco would pass on this information to the Dark Lord, but one can never be sure about Lucius, even after all the Dark Lord has done to him and his family. Lucius could see it as a way of gaining amnesty from him if he could hand such information over. He must not be able to draw any suspicions from the content of your letter.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied, and exited the kitchen, heading for Draco’s bedroom.

****

Harry knocked on Draco’s door and waited for the ‘enter’ that would allow him in. When he stepped inside he couldn’t stop his tummy flipping at the smile Draco gave him. Not to mention he was wearing the same long sleeved white t-shirt he had tried on whilst shopping, and a tight-fitting pair of- _now really isn’t the time to be eyeing Draco up,_ he scolded himself and forced himself to concentrate on more important matters.

“Hey. I need a favour. I need to use Hecate to send a letter to your mother.” Harry relayed the story- as much as he could anyway- of the locket and Kreacher delivering it to the manor, whilst Draco sat confused. 

“Why is this locket in particular so important, Harry?” Draco asked, not unreasonably. 

“Please, Draco, not now. I can’t say, but please, trust me. I know this is asking a lot, but I wouldn’t if it wasn’t vital.”

Draco looked like he was going to argue, but thought better of it. He stood from his bed, putting the book he was reading on the bedside table, and crossed to the small desk in his room. He pulled out ink and parchment and then he and Harry composed the letter. Harry read it and reread it, and was confident there was nothing in it to give away just how important the locket was. 

Draco attached the letter to Hecate’s leg and the pair watched her soar into the warm August afternoon. 

“We should have a reply this evening. Until then, do you want to spend some time together?” Draco asked. Harry grinned. 

“Excellent idea,” he said, and allowed himself one or two slightly inappropriate thoughts. 

****

_ Dear Draco, _

_ And, of course, Mr Potter. Kreacher came to me in December 1995 and asked me to keep secure a locket that he told me had belonged to my cousin, Regulus. I placed this item into the Black vault which is located at the Manor.  _

_ Please do not consider returning to the manor to retrieve it. He Who Shall Not Be Named and the Death Eaters are still using it as their headquarters.  _

_ Narcissa Malfoy. _

Draco finished reading. 

“Well, this means it is where I was pretty certain it would be, but we needed this confirmation before we went back to the Manor- with Voldemort there we couldn’t just go searching. When shall we go?” Harry stared at him.

“’We’?!”

“How do you expect to get into the vault without me?”

“Tell me where it is and I’ll go in.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Draco replied. “My mother has it in the Black vault. It’s warded. No one except someone of Black blood can access it. It requires a blood donation in order to relax the wards. That means you cannot get in to it. You need me.”

Harry panicked. There was no way he wanted to take Draco back to the Manor, the place in which he almost died. His brain started working at a hundred miles an hour.

“Then I’ll take Tonks. She’s a trained Auror, she’s in the Order and she has exactly the same Black blood status as you, given your mothers are sisters- if you can access it she can too.” 

Draco stared. Harry didn’t know if Draco was angry or incredulous. Either way there was an edge and a slight bite to his voice that reminded Harry far too much of the Draco he’d known before they’d formed a friendship. 

“Andromeda Tonks was disinherited from the Black family decades ago. She is no longer recognised as a member of the Black family, which means her descendants aren’t either. And even if she was, her daughter is a half-blood. The wards around my mother’s vault recognise blood purity only.” He paused, and gave Harry his trademark Malfoy sneer. “Your choices to help you into that vault are me or Bellatrix.”

Harry, scowling, just ignored the jibe. “Fine. I can’t take Tonks then ‘cause of your family’s prejudices and idiotic practices. So tell me where the vault is and I’ll go and fire a _Reducto_ at it instead and blast it open.”

“Yeah, because the Death Eaters won’t hear that at all will they, Potter? Nor would it work. Tell me, why are you so determined to keep me out of the place? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I bloody trust you! I just don’t want you to have to risk yourself for this!” Harry could feel himself getting more and more worked up as the desperation in him to keep Draco out of harm built. 

“Then why, exactly, are you forbidding me to enter my own property?”

“BECAUSE I CARE FAR TOO MUCH ABOUT YOU!”

Whatever Draco was going to say next in retort was forgotten and he quickly shut his mouth. Instead he stared at Harry, his expression unreadable. Harry could probably have still managed to salvage the situation if his brain had been working at full speed. Instead Harry inwardly cursed himself and his stupid uncontrollable Gryffindor mouth, his cheeks tinging with deep pink. He felt hot all over, and stared down at his hands, suddenly finding the callus on his right index finger extremely interesting. There was a long pause; Draco’s eyes never left Harry, his features calm. 

“Harry…” Draco’s voice was incredibly soft, their previous argument forgotten. He reached out a hand to place on Harry left forearm, but Harry jumped out the way of the touch. He gave a small cough. 

“So… it looks like you’re going to have to come with me then.” He still refused to meet Draco’s gaze. “We’ll go in the morning as soon as we’re both up. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And he practically ran out of the bedroom. He didn’t slow up until he reached his own room, where he closed the door behind him and slid down it, bringing his knees to his chest and cradling them in his arms. His face still burned with embarrassment. _You stupid, stupid fucking prat,_ the voice inside him said repeatedly. Harry completely agreed with it. 

****

After a very awkward breakfast the following morning, where neither Harry nor Draco ate much or spoke much with each other, Harry decided they should probably get going. Draco had spent most of breakfast sending Harry little looks and trying to catch his eye, whilst Harry stubbornly ignored Draco. He was still in a bad mood, and it hadn’t been improved by another night of poor sleep. The task of having to sneak into Malfoy Manor- again- and with Draco after last night’s outburst were not exactly filling him with the joys of spring, either. 

“Harry, can we…” Draco began, but Harry cut him off. 

“Come on, we need to go.” They said their goodbyes to Snape, who had offered to go with Draco instead of Harry (Harry had refused; there was likely to be many items of jewellery in the vault and Snape didn’t know what the Horcrux locket looked like), and Harry threw the cloak over them both. Then they stepped out of Grimmauld Place and Draco Apparated them both to the Manor. 

Lucius’ wards were still set to accommodate Harry, so Draco managed to Apparate the pair of them directly inside the Manor. He chose an unused drawing room in the south wing, as close to the vault as he could get where he was as certain as he could be that the Death Eaters would not be present. They both quickly cast a _Finite_ to make sure there were no Death Eaters Disillusioned in the room, before casting Disillusionment Charms on themselves. 

Draco opened the door. 

“Turn right here,” he whispered, and Harry followed him down the long corridor. Draco continued to weave him and Harry through a maze of corridors with whispered directions until they came to a door with a large gold handle. Harry noticed that inscribed on the handle was the Black crest and the words ‘Toujours Pur’. _This is it then,_ Harry thought to himself. _The vault must be inside this room behind these doors_. It did not, however, take Harry long to work out he was incorrect- the vault wasn’t located in the room behind the doors; this was the door to the vault itself. Draco took out his wand and cast a quick Slicing Charm on the palm of his hand. Bright crimson dripped onto the handle. The door handle glowed a brilliant gold, then swung open. Harry felt Draco’s hand on his wrist gently pull him into the room. 

Harry gaped. He couldn’t stop himself. The room was the size of his dorm at Hogwarts and filled with jewels and treasures. They removed the Disillusionment Charms from themselves. 

“Why isn’t this all in Gringotts?” Harry asked. 

“With the blood wards in place on this room, and the wards on the Manor itself, this is about as safe as Gringotts,” Draco replied. “Plus having my mother’s jewellery miles away in London is somewhat inconvenient when she decides she wants to wear a certain piece. This is all very expensive, but nothing is priceless or a family heirloom. Those are in the Gringotts’ vault. Now let’s look for this bloody locket so we can go.”

Harry had quickly explained to Draco what it looked like before they left, and the pair set to work searching. After twenty minutes Harry’s Seeker training kicked in and he spotted the locket, nestled between a pair of platinum and turquoise earrings and an ornate golden brooch with an emerald dragon encrusted on it. Triumphant, Harry grabbed it, putting it round his neck quickly for safe keeping. 

“Let’s get out of here quickly,” he said to Draco. 

They left the vault and prepared to Apparate, when Harry heard footsteps. He immediately threw his cloak over him and Draco and pushed him against the wall. Two Death Eaters rounded the corner. Harry held his breath, not daring to give away their position. Draco had gone silent next to him. 

“The Dark Lord says it will be on the fourteenth,” said the female Death Eater. “He prefers nightfall. Chance for more people to be at home rather than out enjoying the weather.” The male Death Eater laughed. 

“I hope I get one. I’d love a filthy Mudblood. I just wish he’d chosen a bigger town or something. There’s not exactly a lot of wizards in Emsworth. Although I hear it does make a lovely tourist spot.” The two Death Eaters chuckled together and continued down the corridor.

Harry listened for the sounds of their footsteps disappearing. Only then did he realise his body was pressed flat against Draco’s. He looked into Draco’s face, inches from his own. He could feel Draco’s warm breath on his cheek. Draco was staring straight back into his eyes, his mouth slightly open. His fingers lightly brushed Harry’s arm, eliciting a small shiver in Harry. He licked his lips, eyes still locked with Draco’s. Still neither boy had moved. Draco moved his face closer to Harry’s…

Suddenly a laugh emitted from another room down a far corridor and snapped Harry out of his trance, reminding him where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. 

“We really need to go,” he whispered, somewhat hoarsely. Draco merely nodded. He grabbed Harry gently by the arm and Apparated them straight to Grimmauld Place. 

****

Harry was relieved to find Remus sitting at the kitchen table with Snape, as the conversation he had overheard at the Manor was troublesome. Snape’s head snapped up when he heard them approach and his face flooded with what Harry was sure was relief. Before he could do or say anything else, however, Remus had engulfed Harry in a tight hug, before pulling away with a whispered, “thank Merlin you’re okay”. Snape looked at Harry and raised his eyebrows in question. Harry gently nodded and indicated his neck to Snape to inform him they had the locket. The corners of Snape’s mouth turned up and something that looked suspiciously like admiration filled his eyes, before he banished it. Harry and Draco sat down. 

“We’ve got a problem,” Harry started, and saw Snape’s and Remus’ eyes widen. “No, don’t worry, we’re both fine. It was actually really easy, and Draco was right, I would never have been able to get in and find the locket without him and certainly without alerting Voldemort I was there. No, it’s not about the locket. As we were leaving we both overheard two Death Eaters discussing an attack on a town called Emsworth. It’s taking place in two nights’ time. Apparently it has a small wizarding community.” 

“I’ll alert the Order,” said Remus immediately. “Where is Emsworth exactly?”

“It’s in Hampshire, near Portsmouth,” said Harry. He felt amusement at the three pairs of amazed eyes on him and chuckled lightly. “I do know things you know. One of the advantages of having had some Muggle education- we learn things other than just spells and potions at school. Anyway, it’s on the coast of Hampshire, near the Sussex border. My uncle Vernon’s sister, Marge, went there once. Dudley got a postcard. It sounded like a minor raid, with minor Death Eaters going, but I’m not certain. Remus, will you be able to send the Order to protect the town?”

“Of course they’ll go,” Remus replied. “Harry, will you come with me? To speak to the Order I mean? You’ll need to relate what you heard. You can tell them you heard it in a vision, no need to mention you were idiotic enough to go back to the Manor again,” he said, although his words lacked heat. Indeed, they sounded like they contained immense pride, as if he’d have expected nothing less from Harry. “I’ll call an emergency meeting. We’ve switched Order meetings to The Burrow for now. You need to catch up first hand on what the Order has been up to anyway.”

Harry agreed, and followed Remus out of the kitchen, catching Draco’s eye as he went. The brief memory of them pressed together crossed his mind and he flushed slightly. Draco gave him a small, lopsided half-smile then turned to talk to Snape. Harry turned away, somewhat reluctantly, and exited Grimmauld place once more, apparating to The Burrow. 

****

Harry arrived and felt suddenly nervous. This was going to be the first time he had seen Ron or Hermione since their bitter argument on his birthday. Remus seemed to know what Harry was thinking. 

“They’re not mad. Not anymore,” he said. “They’re more… hurt and confused. And to be honest they have good reason.” Harry winced. He knew he’d been a bit unfair with what he’d said to Ron and Hermione. Part of him was still mad at their complete lack of support in him though.

The door to The Burrow opened then, and Ron and Hermione stepped through the door into the garden. They both froze when they saw him. “Go and talk to them, Harry. They’re your friends. I’ll alert the Order members, and as soon as everyone is here we’ll hold the meeting. Go.” With that, Remus walked into The Burrow. 

Harry swallowed as his two best friends approached. 

“Erm, hi,” he said awkwardly. Hermione smiled at him whilst Ron just glared. 

“What are you doing here, Harry?” he asked coldly. 

“Let’s talk. Not in your room. Last two times we’ve been in there we’ve yelled at each other. I don’t want to yell anymore. Let’s go into the orchard.” Harry led the way with Ron and Hermione following. He sat underneath an apple tree which provided good shade against the August sun, and gestured for his friends to sit next to him. 

“Firstly I want to say sorry. For being a prat, for keeping secrets. For shutting you both out. It’s just… I always felt I could rely on you both, for anything, you know? Then suddenly you weren’t there when I was desperate. And then, well, I guess I got a bit defensive, and, um, yelled at you before you could yell at me about a few things. Things you’re not going to like very much most probably. I’ll tell you, but you need to promise to listen to me and hear me out.” He took a deep breath as both Ron and Hermione nodded their promise. 

“Please don’t shout at me, and trust me. Okay. Right. Um, I’m not living at Grimmauld Place alone. Snape and Malfoy are both living there too.”

He stared into his friends’ scandalised and shocked faces but, to their credit, they both kept their promise and remained silent. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out Dumbledore’s letter, handing it over to them. He stared at their faces, searching for some sign of the emotions they were feeling, whilst they both read. 

When they had finished Hermione said, “How could Dumbledore have done this? I never thought I would feel sorry for Snape.” Ron nodded his agreement. Relief threatened to overcome Harry. They did, at least, understand in part. 

“Without Snape there is a good chance Remus and I wouldn’t have got out of the Manor alive that night, and Draco certainly wouldn’t have. Snape fought with us. The Death Eaters want him almost as much as they want me right now. And Malfoy is there because to be honest he has nowhere else to go- his parents are in hiding too but wherever they are isn’t as secure as Grimmauld. It’s the safest place for him right now.” 

“Are you sure of Snape’s loyalties, Harry?” Hermione asked. Harry smiled at her.

“Oh yes. I, um, found something this morning, and it’s all thanks to Snape.” And he reached into his t shirt and pulled off the locket. Both Ron and Hermione gasped. 

“Harry, is that…” Ron began. Harry grinned and nodded jubilantly. 

“Snape was the one who worked out who RAB was. Do you remember the locket we tossed out two years ago?” 

They both stared, wide-eyed in realisation. “Well, that was it. RAB was Regulus Black, Sirius’ brother. The only chance of finding it was if Kreacher stole it back like he did with loads of other things. So I called Kreacher and he told me he’d taken it to Malfoy Manor to give to Draco’s mum. Malfoy and I snuck back in there this morning and got it. I’d never have been able to get the locket out of the Manor without him.” 

“You’ve got it!” Hermione squealed, whilst Ron uttered, “Blimey, well done, mate.” Harry beamed, and then told them both the story of the blood wards, and sneaking into the manor. He left out the part about where he and Draco almost kissed. He didn’t want to give Ron an embolism and kill him. 

“And that leads to why I’m here. When we were about to leave we overheard a conversation between two Death Eaters. They’re planning an attack on the south coast in two nights’ time. So Remus is here to call an Order meeting. I’m going to tell them I saw the conversation in another vision. I can’t explain to them all about Snape and Malfoy or why I was at Malfoy Manor yet. It would lead to too many questions we can’t answer.”

“And how is it going, mate? Living with Malfoy?” Ron asked. 

_ Brilliant. I have a ridiculous and highly inappropriate crush on him. In fact I almost kissed him this morning and had a wank whilst thinking about him three days ago.  _ “It’s going quite well. We’ve reached a truce anyway so at least we’re not yelling at each other all the time. He’s okay when you get to know him. He’s safe at Grimmauld Place and that’s what matters for the time being.”

“Can I ask you something, Harry?” Hermione asked tentatively. Harry sensed she was nervous and vowed not to bite her head off, whatever it was. “Why were you so certain it wasn’t a fake vision? Did it feel different to… to the one he sent you of Sirius, or something else?”

Harry thought for a moment. He’d considered this himself. “The vision felt exactly the same as they always do. But I was as sure as I could be this one was genuine. Even Voldemort can understand my need to try and rescue someone I loved, cared about, which is why he did what he did with Sirius. But he doesn’t understand the compassion a person can have for another person, just because that person is a fellow human being. He doesn’t love, he doesn’t care and he has no empathy. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, understand my need to rescue someone just because they were suffering. If he wanted to send me a fake vision he’d never have picked Draco. He knew we hated each other. Voldemort would never have expected me to try and rescue him.” 

He was amused to see the two wide-eyed expressions on his best friends’ faces. Hermione looked close to tears again. 

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered. “We should never have doubted you. It makes perfect sense when you say it like that. I… I’m not surprised you got mad with us. I’d have been mad too. And then I shouted, and I slapped you, all for doing what you had to do. Oh, Harry!” She started to cry. “I’m so sorry! Can you forgive me?” 

In answer Harry opened his arm wide and Hermione flew into them. Harry wrapped his arms tightly around her. 

“Um, Harry, I’m sorry too,” said Ron. “You were right, about a lot of stuff.” He held his hand out to Harry. “Friends?” Harry grinned. 

“Of course,” he replied, shaking Ron’s hand. “Now we’d best get inside and see what the Order have been talking about. We’ve been out here ages, they’ve probably all arrived by now.” 

As they walked back to The Burrow Harry’s heart felt lighter than it had done in months.

****

As Harry expected, by the time they arrived at The Burrow the Order was already assembled. Remus had obviously briefed them on what Harry had seen as he was only required to confirm a few details. To his relief no one questioned him too much on the vision so he was not forced to lie more than he needed to. 

“So we’ll go to Emsworth later this afternoon,” said Kingsley, “and remove the Muggle-borns as a priority, but really we need to get everyone out. Arthur, can you get a list of the addresses of all the wizards and witches registered as living there from the Ministry please? All magical folk- not just Muggle-borns- are more than likely in danger.” Mr Weasley nodded in agreement. “And we’ll station myself and Tonks in separate streets where there are known wizarding families, and we can alert the rest of the Order as soon as the Death Eaters show up.” 

The plans to counter the Death Eater attack continued. Harry listened intently. He knew he would not be permitted to fight with them; too much resided on him undertaking Dumbledore’s mission the Order knew he’d been left than to risk himself in a minor battle that the Order were more than capable of fighting. If everyone had known he had risked his life by going to the Manor to rescue Draco there would have been hell to pay. But for that moment he was content in the knowledge that he had, once again, thrown a spanner in the works of Voldemort’s plans. The information he’d passed on was going to save lives, and he was a step closer to restoring the bastard to mortality and defeating him once and for all. Ron and Hermione were his friends again. In fact, if it wasn’t for a certain blond Slytherin plaguing his thoughts and confusing him half to death he thought that, for once, he might have permitted himself to feel quite smug about how the day had worked out and congratulated himself on a job well done. 


	6. Unforgivable Behaviour

"It seems I have someone disloyal in amongst my ranks.” Voldemort’s voice was high and cruel, yet soft and barely more than a whisper- his crimson eyes piercing and evil, and his Death Eaters were cowering in fear. “I thought I had made my rules on traitors perfectly clear. Those who are disloyal will suffer at my wand. Tonight was supposed to be a great victory. Instead we were scuppered once again by members of the Order of the Phoenix. I send my Death Eaters in with the intention of indulging in the sport of Mudblood killing, and end up losing two loyal servants myself. 

“So, who was it that betrayed me? Which of you thought fit to divulge our plans to the enemy? I assure you that this time it was not Potter and his ability to see as I see; I have been shielding my mind from him carefully whilst we planned this attack. Surrender yourself now and I shall be merciful. You will receive a swift and painless execution. Surrender yourself now and I shall not attack your family. Fail to do so and when I find you- and I will discover which of you betrayed me- and what I shall do to you will make the torture Draco Malfoy received appear to be merely mild tickling, taking your friends and family down with you.” Voldemort paused, raking his followers with those cold, cruel eyes. 

“No one chooses to confess? Very well. We shall do this my way. It takes a little longer but is ultimately more… satisfying.”

He waved his wand and forced the Death Eaters to all stand in a line. They were white-faced and petrified. Voldemort paced up and down the line, evaluating each and every Death Eater extremely closely as a General would do so to his troops. He was evidently applying Legilimency against them, and becoming more and more frustrated as each mind he ploughed through showed loyalty. As he reached the last of his servants, and having felt nothing, the thin thread of patience he had snapped. 

“I am most disappointed. It seems as if no one is willing to share their secrets with me. I was unaware that so many of you were skilled in Occlumency. Unfortunately for me I cannot afford to lose too many of you in recent weeks; traitors that shall never be forgiven, two who were killed tonight, the loss of Rowle and Dolohov here in the Manor plus those others lost whilst trying to take Potter in flight a little over a fortnight ago have greatly depleted my stock. Still… a little taste of the Cruciatus Curse should at least teach you all some respect. _Crucio!_ ”

In unison the Death Eaters all fell to the ground screaming in agony as Voldemort unleashed his most powerful and terrifying curse on them all. Voldemort laughed and held the curse steady. The sound of bones snapping and skin tearing could be heard above the screams.

“This is a small taster of what is coming to you, turncoat, when I discover your identity.” He released the curse. The Death Eaters collapsed into an undignified pile, eliciting moans and cries of pain. “This is only the beginning of what you shall feel, traitor. That is, after you have watched me destroy your family. By the end you shall be begging for death and I shall not grant it. I will make you suffer. No one lies to Lord Voldemort.” He paused and smiled at his followers. The sight was extremely unpleasant and frightening. It was the smile a large cat may give its prey just before it ripped out its prey’s jugular.

“On second thoughts, perhaps I can spare one of you.” Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it, apparently at random, at the male Death Eater that Harry and Draco had overheard discussing the plan a few days ago. 

“ _Avada Kedavra._ ”

No one dared move or let out a sound or even so much as a breath as the Killing Curse struck the man squarely in the chest. He didn’t even have time to register his shock before he was hit; all his face showed was pain, etched into his unchanging, eternal features as his eyes went blank and lifeless. Voldemort sneered at the corpse before sweeping out of the room, leaving a room full of trembling, terrified Death Eaters in his wake. 

****

Harry moaned once more and his eyes shot open. “Fucking Voldemort,” he said into the dark, as the memories of what he had witnessed played over in his mind. His scar was throbbing and he was anxious to hear news from the Order. He knew he wasn’t going to get back to sleep any time soon. He reached for his glasses, shoved them on his face, picked up his wand and cast a quick _Tempus_. It was one in the morning. 

Cursing Voldemort once more for being a sadistic bastard, he got out of bed and headed for the kitchen, intending to get a drink of water. He was surprised to see Snape sitting at the kitchen table. Snape raked his eyes over Harry then sneered. 

“Nice of you to dress for the occasion, Mr Potter,” he said sarcastically, referring to the fact Harry was standing in the kitchen in just his boxers and an old holey t-shirt. Harry flushed slightly at both the words and standing semi-naked in front of his old professor, but held his ground. 

“It’s my house and it’s one in the morning. I’ll walk around it however I bloody well want to wearing whatever I like. What are you doing up still anyway? Don’t you ever go to bed? Or are the rumours about you being a bat true?”

To his surprise Snape’s mouth pulled into a small smile. 

“Actually, Potter, I was waiting for your werewolf to arrive. He said he would come and inform me of how the Order’s counter-attack went tonight.” He eyed Harry’s pale face suspiciously. “Unless you already know? It would explain why you’re awake at this late hour.”

Harry nodded. “It was a success. I’ve just seen Voldemort losing his temper with his Death Eaters and punishing them. I don’t know if anyone from the Order was hurt or- killed- but I don’t think so to be honest. He was mad, really, really mad. He thinks one of the Death Eaters betrayed him. He threw Crucio at them all, then killed one.”

“Is this the first vision you have had since the night you rescued Draco?” Snape asked. 

“Yes. I had wondered about that too, why I’d seen nothing for ages. I know it’s always been when he’s really emotional- either delighted, or furious or something- that I’ve seen his thoughts. I thought for sure I would see when he realised Draco had escaped but I didn’t. But I heard him tell the Death Eaters he’s shielding from me. I guess he doesn’t want me to find out any more plans. He was so enraged tonight though that I suppose he forgot to use Occlumency against me and I could see what went on. Dumbledore said he was employing Occlumency against me last year. I guess he slipped a couple of times.”

Just then the wards to Grimmauld Place vibrated to indicate Remus’ arrival. Harry dashed into the hallway, his mouth open, but relaxed slightly at the look on Remus’s face. Remus smiled at him and held a hand to stop him asking the question Harry was about to ask.

“No deaths, Harry. Not on our side at least. Nothing worse than a few bruises and Stinging Jinxes. Everyone accounted for. Harry, your information definitely saved the lives of twelve wizards and witches today, and Merlin knows how many Muggles. Well done.” Harry beamed at him. 

“Thank Merlin everyone is okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll talk to you both in the morning. I just really needed to know before I could sleep again. Goodnight.” To his surprise he suddenly felt exhausted. The relief of knowing everyone was okay was overwhelming. He had taken a Calming Draught before bed that evening to try and aid rest, but knowing everyone he cared about was safe and sound was more effective than any potion. He slipped back into bed and was instantly asleep. 

****

The days that followed were quiet for Harry. He and Snape had a few conversations about possible Horcrux locations, but neither had any fruitful suggestions. Harry had been to The Burrow a couple of times, where Ron had slaughtered him at wizard’s chess, and Hermione had researched ways to destroy Horcruxes. He’d even had dinner with the Weasleys; he had congratulated Bill and Fleur on their wedding and admired the photographs. He’d laughed with the twins when they demonstrated their latest inventions. He was dismayed and also irritated to find Ginny still stubbornly ignoring him. He and Draco had been friendly enough with one another but Harry was avoiding being alone with him, much to the blond’s annoyance.

It was a week after the averted attack on Emsworth that Snape had a proposition for Harry. He, Harry and Draco were once again in the kitchen, having just finished dinner, when Snape spoke. 

“Potter, I’ve been thinking. Your offensive and defensive magic is, even I have to grudgingly admit, excellent. Combined with your natural instincts, excellent timing and unrivalled bravery you’re a formidable opponent. I always considered the possibility of extending your magical knowledge, however, should the opportunity in this war make itself apparent, but I was unsure of your reaction. After your conduct at Malfoy Manor, however, I do not think you’ll be too adverse to this suggestion. Potter, it is my wish for you to learn Dark Magic.” Harry sat stunned whilst Draco spat out his pumpkin juice. 

“Harry, cast Dark spells? I don’t think so,” he said haughtily. Harry groaned at Draco’s stupid comment and buried his hands whilst Snape sneered. 

“Draco, how short is your abysmal memory? I would have thought even you could remember almost bleeding to death in a Hogwarts bathroom. Harry cast a very Dark spell on you with next to no effort on his part just two months ago. Even though at that time he did not know the spell’s effects, it doesn’t detract from the truth. Potter cast a complicated and Dark spell with very strong results. You nearly died. That was the first time Potter had cast the spell. The second time he successfully cast it, it cost a Death Eater his life.” Draco gaped and turned pale. Snape continued.

“And two years ago Mr Potter here cast the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix. Although it was not powerful enough to inflict immense pain it was strong enough to knock her to the ground. I think with some training Harry will become extremely competent in Dark Magic.” Snape turned back to Harry.

“You can also resist the Imperius Curse, a gift exceedingly few wizards have. I believe you remain the only wizard to date able to resist the curse from Voldemort himself. Not to mention the obvious. Surviving the Avada Kedavra. In fact, the Dark Lord himself has cast all three Unforgivables on you. And yet here you stand, alive and whole.” Draco made a strange noise at this. Both Harry and Snape ignored him.

“And if I don’t want to?” Harry’s voice was defiant. The idea of learning more Dark Arts was frightening to him. Because part of him knew Snape was right. And he had already knowingly used a Dark spell with the intention of killing. The thought he could know more was thrilling, in both a good and terrible way. 

“Then there is a good chance the Dark Lord will win,” Snape replied evenly. “You need to fight fire with fire. These are the spells the Death Eaters will be using. It is vital you have these in your arsenal.”

“I don’t want to be a Dark wizard.” Harry’s voice was almost desperate. 

“And you shall not become one. Knowing and using the Dark Arts does not necessarily make one Dark. Tell me, Harry, is a _Diffindo_ spell light or dark?”

“Light,” Harry replied instantly. 

“Correct. In fact, you were taught it by Flitwick in your second year. The Severing Charm, however, does not just sever objects. It can cut into human flesh. If you were to cast that spell at a human being, there is a good chance it could kill them. It has a very similar effect to _Sectumsempra_. What conclusions can you draw from this? Draco, you too.”

Draco looked blank but Harry, with his natural ability for Defence, had cottoned on to Snape’s point immediately. 

“It’s not the spell that’s cast but the nature of intent that determines good or evil.” Snape gave him the first genuine smile Harry had ever seen cross his face. 

“Excellent, Potter. Using powerful Dark spells with the sole purpose of defeating Voldemort will make you no more evil or Dark than using a Blasting Curse or a Stunning Spell will. It just means your magic will be more powerful and effective and therefore more evenly matched against your enemies. You will be using Dark Magic but for good, honourable reasons. It will not turn you into the next Death Eater by default.”

Harry considered these words carefully. It made sense to him. It was magic he would only use if the need absolutely presented itself, such as his or a loved one’s life were in danger, but Snape was right. It would help to know the spells. And it wouldn’t mean he was turning into another Dark Lord or something. 

“Okay then. I’ll learn them,” he said. Snape looked triumphant whilst Draco looked shocked.

“I’m pleased to hear you say that, Harry. We will begin tomorrow morning. The spells you’ll be practising are the three Unforgivables.” And he swept out of the room. Draco turned to stare at Harry. Harry paled.

****

“Can I observe you today please?” Draco asked. Harry agreed. 

“Yes, but there is something I need to say to Snape first. Can you give us five minutes?” He entered the unused dining room that he and Snape had removed the furniture from to give them a practice area and waited. Snape appeared minutes later. 

“Are you ready, Potter?” he enquired. Harry nodded. 

“I am, but first, there was something I wanted to say to you. I… I’m sorry. That night, when Dumbledore died. I called you a coward. I just want you to know that I don’t think you’re a coward. Dumbledore had no right to ask of you what he did. The fact that you did it, whilst you continued to risk your own life every day with that fucking madman, well, that makes you beyond brave to me. Thank you. For all that, and for doing this- training me, helping with the Horcruxes. Thank you for being about the strongest ally I have.”

Whatever Snape had expected Harry to say, it wasn’t this. Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen Snape look dumbfounded before. He smiled inwardly. The look of astonishment faded after a minute to be replaced with one that Harry didn’t recognise, and Snape didn’t elaborate. 

“Apology accepted, Potter. Thank you. Now, we shall start with the Imperius Curse.” At that moment Draco entered the room and took a seat Harry had left for him, whilst Snape removed a stone from his robes and Transfigured it into a rat. “You do not need me to teach you the incantation. Draco mastered this after four hours. I expect similar results with you.” He put the rat down on the floor; instantly it tried to make its escape. 

Harry didn’t have time to think. He wasn’t going to fail so spectacularly at this that he lost his target without even uttered a single incantation. He raised his wand and pointed it instantly at the rat, clearly saying, _“Imperio._ ” 

The rat stopped dead. Harry felt the warmth flowing from his right arm and channelling through his wand. He circled his hand; the rat did a somersault. Harry took a chance look at both Snape and Draco; they were both gazing at the rat in astonishment. He had the rat perform a few more tricks before Snape uttered a Finite, then Stupefied the rat before it could escape. 

“That exceeded being impressive, Harry,” Snape said, whilst Draco nodded his agreement. “If there was any doubt that you will be skilled in the Dark Arts then that display just dispelled that. Next you shall try the Cruciatus Curse.”

Harry did not particularly want to master this spell, but he had to admit it would be incredibly useful to know. If he could use this spell to stop his friends, loved ones from being killed, then he would do it. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him of Bellatrix’s words to him the night he cast it at her after Sirius’ death: ‘you have to really mean them, Potter!’ He took a second to reclaim his composure. He could do this. Snape removed the Stunning Spell from the rat and Harry braced himself. _Poor rat_. His mind quickly wondered to Hermione. What would she say if she could see him right now? She’d never speak to him again. He shuddered and locked the thought away.

Once again he raised his wand, slightly hating himself. 

“ _Crucio!”_

The rat instantly began squeaking, and no one was left in any doubt that it was suffering. _You have to really mean them. You have to really mean them_. Harry felt the same self-loathing he felt the night he killed Rowle. The rat didn’t deserve this torture any more than Draco had. Yet he knew he needed to learn. 

“ _Finite!”_ he cried when it became too much. The rat remained in its spot, trembling. Harry felt like a complete and utter bastard. 

“Excellent once again, and outstanding for only a second ever attempt at the curse,” Snape said. His voice lowered. “You know what is next, Harry.”

Harry shook his head fiercely. 

“I can’t,” he whispered, shocked to find tears prickling. “I accept the other two- being able to command Death Eaters to leave us alone, or causing them enough pain to give us time to escape, but this is in a different league altogether. That curse, I can’t cast it. Snape, that curse killed my parents. It is because of that I never knew my mum.” He saw Snape falter at these words. He took a minute to recover, a sad expression on his face.

“I know this is difficult for you, Harry.” His voice was as gentle as he’d ever heard it. “But this could be the spell that defeats Voldemort. Two words and he could be finished. Harry, please.” Harry looked at Draco, and saw him give him a small smile of encouragement. He took a deep breath and slowly nodded his agreement.

The rat was still convulsing from the effects of Harry’s Cruciatus Curse. Harry forced down the tears. He aimed his wand. _I’m sorry. I’m so very, very sorry._ Sorry to the rat, sorry to his parents. He fought to steady his hand, then checked Snape and Draco couldn’t be hit if his aim was off.

“ _Avada Kedavra.”_

Green light shot out of his wand and instantly struck the rat. Immediately it was silent, still, and very obviously dead. Harry dropped his wand in shock and felt the colour drain from his face. He suddenly felt very sick. Snape quickly Transfigured the rat’s body back into the stone. Both he and Draco’s eyes were fixed on Harry and looked wary. 

“Just so you both know,” Harry said, his voice flat and distant. “I shall never, as long as I live, ever cast that again. Not even against Voldemort.” Then he fled the room and ran to the bathroom, Draco hot on his heels. 

After he was done vomiting he opened the bathroom door and was only vaguely surprised to see Draco standing the other side of it. 

“Come on,” he said soothingly, putting an arm around his shoulders, and led him to his bedroom.

****

“They shouldn’t have been that easy to cast.” Harry was still shaken as he paced the room. “What does that say about me, hey? ‘Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, Chosen One, Sadistic Bastard’?” Draco made to make a movement to embrace Harry with his arms, but sensed at the last moment Harry needed to be free for the time being, and reined it back. 

“You are far from sadistic. You will never use it to torture like Voldemort does.”

“You’ve never cast it. You’re a strong wizard but you can’t cast _Crucio_.”

“You think I was allowed to practise on Transfigured rodents like you did? I was given a fucking Muggle to practise on! Of course I couldn’t do it. You couldn’t cast it against a person who didn’t deserve it either, could you?”

“No. No, I couldn’t.”

“There you go then. Not sadistic, not wicked, not Dark. Git.” Draco paused for a moment before continuing.

“Harry.” Draco’s voice was nervous. “Why can you cast spells like _Sectumsempra_ which are violent and cause suffering, but you’re reluctant to cast a curse that is instant and probably painless?”

It was a fair question. But Harry knew his answer. “Both times I’ve cast that have been in desperation, and they were instinctive spells. I didn’t plan using it either time. It has also been in defence both times. When I threw it at you it was because you were trying to cast _Crucio_ at me. Of course, I know now that it wouldn’t have worked but I didn’t know that at the time. And then when Rowle started to cast the Killing Curse, I flipped and sent the most powerful spell I knew to get him away from Remus. But Avada Kedavra… it’s premeditated, it’s cold, and it’s calculating. It’s heartless and it’s soulless. It’s too easy to kill, to just snuff out a life. There’s nothing defensive about it. There’s no counter-curse and no way to heal from it, unlike other spells. It’s so final. And I will not use the same spell that took my parents away from me.”

“You’re not cold and heartless, Harry. Don’t you ever think that, just ‘cause you can cast a few dangerous spells,” said Draco quietly. “It makes you a powerful wizard, not an evil one. You have a bigger heart than anyone I’ve ever known. The ability for more compassion and forgiveness than most people will deserve. More than I probably deserved, yet you forgave me.”

There was a long pause. 

“Did it hurt?” Harry asked eventually.

“The Sectumsempra?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess. I was quite out of it to be honest. Semi -conscious by the time Severus found me and healed me, and as soon as I was healed any pain I felt vanished. I think you suffered more. You really beat yourself up over that didn’t you?” Harry nodded solemnly. “See? Proof right there that you’re good, Harry. You hit me with a spell that, let’s be honest, I probably deserved- no, I did, don’t argue with me- and you’re the one who suffered most.” Draco paused, and let a small smile for on his lips. “Gryffindor Martyr to the core.”

Another awkward pause followed. 

“This is the most you’ve spoken to me for days,” Draco said. “I was beginning to think you’d changed you mind about wanting a friendship.”

Harry blushed. “You know why I’ve been avoiding you,” he mumbled, refusing to meet Draco’s gaze.

“Oh, so you admit you’ve been avoiding me, then?” Draco’s tone was light but had a slight edge to it. Harry ignored it. 

“Come and sit down. All this pacing is giving me motion sickness. I feel like I’ve been for a twenty minute Floo journey.”

Harry sat down on the bed next to Draco.

“Why have you refused to talk to me or be in a room alone with me?” Draco asked. 

“Because I’m a big blundering Gryffindor idiot who can’t control the crap that comes out of my mouth and I feel like a bloody fool,” Harry replied candidly. Draco laughed.

“I hardly think ‘defeating a dragon, rescuing hostages, and battling a maze- oh, and surviving Voldemort’s resurrection’ are blundering. And if half the stuff you’re rumoured to have done- like getting the Philosopher’s Stone and killing a fucking basilisk- is true, then you’re amazing. Take how you are on a broom- if you could only see yourself when you fly, it’s like watching an eagle soaring. You’re graceful, and instinctive, and- oh fuck it- beautiful, and I lost at Quidditch to you so many bloody times because I was too busy staring at you rather than looking for the Snitch. You are special, Harry. You just can’t see it. I told you the night we decided to give this friendship a go that I found it impossible to ignore you. I meant that.”

“Yes, but you didn’t blurt out to me that you liked me. As, um, more than a friend, I mean.” Harry’s cheeks were burning and he refused to look at Draco. 

“Only because you got in and said it first.” 

Harry couldn’t stop himself, his head snapped up and met Draco’s gaze. 

“I’ve only been trying to tell you for days I like you too, you fucking prat.” He moved closer to Harry and placed one hand on his cheek. Harry’s eyelids closed at the touch, his heartbeat quickening.

“Harry.” Harry opened his eyes and stared into Draco’s. He had lost the ability to speak.

“Harry,” Draco said again, in a tone barely louder than a whisper as he stroked a lock of hair away from Harry’s eyes and let his index finger trace his cheek. “Harry, I…”

Then he took a deep breath and leant forward, his hand lightly cupping Harry’s chin, and kissed him.

Harry’s momentary surprise melted away into complete joy and the memory of the Unforgivables washed away as the feel of Draco’s lips- soft yet determined- probed his own, his tongue tentatively licking Harry’s bottom lip in a plea for entrance. Harry was only too willing to grant it; he parted his lips and sighed as Draco’s tongue entered his mouth and Harry began to kiss Draco back in earnest. Harry’s right hand snaked up Draco’s side and buried itself in his hair as he closed his eyes and melted into the kiss, allowing his own tongue to join with Draco’s. _Okay, I get what the big deal is about this now. This is what kissing should feel like._ Harry groaned gently into Draco’s mouth and deepened the kiss. Small electric shocks were running up his spine and his breath was quickening. His left arm wound itself around Draco’s waist and Harry, on impulse, climbed into Draco’s lap and pulled him flush against his own body, drawing the most wonderful sounding sigh of delight from the other boy.

Draco had one arm around Harry’s neck, whilst the other was settled on his hip. Harry gave a small start when Draco pulled his t shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and pushed his hand under the material, stoking up and down his spine. The feel of skin on skin made Harry shiver. This was the single-most erotic moment of his entire life to date and if Draco shifted his position, Harry thought, he would realise just how stimulating Harry was finding it. He couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Suddenly, the hand caressing Harry’s back slipped round to his front, Draco’s open palm rubbing small circles over his chest and abdomen. Draco’s fingers traced around his belly button then followed the trail of hair that led to his jean fly. Harry gripped Draco’s waist tightly.

Just then Draco broke the kiss, eliciting a moan of protest from the other boy. Draco looked deep into Harry’s eyes, which were a sparkling emerald green. He refused to break Harry’s gaze as he removed his hand from Harry’s stomach and pressed his palm flat against his groin.

Harry couldn’t help it. He shut his eyes tight and bucked instinctively into the contact as buried his face in Draco’s neck, mouth parted. He inhaled sharply.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. His breathing became erratic and he pulled his face out of Draco’s neck, once more looking him in the eye. Draco had a gloriously sexy pink tinge to his cheeks. His mouth was red and slightly swollen. His hair was rustled, his eyes a warm molten silver. He was panting hard. 

It was suddenly all too much to bear. Harry crushed his lips down once more onto Draco’s, in a fiery, desperate kiss. He was kissed back with just as much enthusiasm. Harry’s hands mimicked those of Draco’s and began fumbling with the fly on Draco’s trousers. Draco lay down on the bed, pulling Harry on top of him. They never once broke the kiss. Harry pushed down Draco’s trousers as he felt Draco do the same to his. He could feel Draco’s erection against his hand and at that moment Harry needed to touch it more he needed the air to breathe. He rolled off Draco so he was lying on his side, and slipped his hand inside Draco’s underwear. A second later he felt Draco do the same to him.

“Harry…” Draco whispered as Harry’s fingers curled around him and began to move. Harry leant forwards and captured his mouth in another kiss, unable to find any words. The sensation of Draco gripping him, moving in the same rhythm he was building on him, was almost too much. 

“I should warn you, this isn’t going to take long,” he panted breathlessly, breaking the kiss and once more burying his face in the crook of Draco’s neck. 

“Me…ugh… neither,” Draco replied. With his free hand, he brought Harry’s mouth back up for a kiss, his tongue thrusting inside Harry’s mouth which mimicked the rhythm of his hand movements perfectly, his tongue stud brushing delightfully across Harry’s own tongue and brought Harry dangerously close to the edge. 

“Oh god,” he groaned into Draco’s mouth then surrendered; his legs trembled and his breathing sped up. The burning fire in the pit of his stomach spread furiously. “Oh god. Gonna… oh fuck,” and with a final thrust of Draco’s hand he spilt himself onto his stomach. This was followed almost instantly by Draco’s own orgasm. 

“That was… Oh Merlin,” said Draco several minutes later, when they both had their breath back. He he looked into Harry’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked when he saw Harry’s expression. He reached up a hand to stroke down Harry’s face but Harry dodged it. “Harry…?”

“I’ve got to go,” Harry suddenly said. He hoisted his boxers and jeans back up and clambered off the bed. 

“Harry, what are you doing?” said Draco as he hurriedly redressed, the hurt evident in every syllable. 

“I’m sorry, Draco. I’ll see you later.” And with that Harry ran out of the bedroom, leaving a very confused and upset Draco Malfoy wondering what he did wrong behind him. 

****

It was dark by the time Harry had worked out his own head and plucked up enough Gryffindor courage to talk to Draco. He knocked softly on the door. 

“Can I come in?”

“Fuck off, Potter.”

Harry ignored him and opened the door anyway. Draco glared at him.

“What part of ‘fuck off’ did you not understand? What’s this, the ‘cheers for the wank, let’s just pretend it never happened’ speech?” 

Harry saw Draco’s eyes were red and was shocked and a bit saddened to realise Draco had been crying. Guilt washed over him. 

“Please. I want to talk to you. Can I sit down?” Draco sniffed and moved over in the bed, making enough space for Harry. Evidently his Malfoy pride was not going to allow him to make the first move and talk to Harry. 

“I’m sorry for running out like that. It’s just-”

“Look, Potter,” Harry winced with the way Draco sneered his name, and reminded himself Draco was hurting, “I get it. I’m Draco Malfoy, good for a shag, but nothing more. ‘Thanks and bye’, right? Well save your breath trying to spare my feelings to ease your Gryffindor conscience. You were fun but I won’t lose sleep over you.”

Harry sighed. A month ago and that comment would have really hurt. But he knew Draco now and could see through the mask. 

“Draco,” he said quietly “if you only meant a quick feel up to me I wouldn’t have run off. I like you- I really, really like you okay? And that is scaring the living shit out of me.”

Draco met his eyes, and his cold expression softened slightly. Harry continued.

“I’m deeply attracted to you. And have been for a few weeks now. But I’m also trying to work out my own head ‘cause it’s all over the place at the moment. Draco, this afternoon was my first time doing anything. With anyone. You’re the first person who’s ever made me… you know.” His cheeks burned with embarrassment and he wished he was better at talking about emotional stuff. “And the fact that my first, um, experience was with someone who annoyed the piss out of me as much as I did them just two months ago is confusing me.”

Draco made to speak but Harry shushed him. Now he’d started he needed to keep going. 

“I only worked out I liked men two months ago. I mean, I was going out with Ron’s sister after thinking I wanted her all sixth year but something didn’t feel right. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks after we got together it clicked. And the fact I feel like I do for you scares me. But not enough to keep away from you. At first I wondered if it was just physical attraction but I really like you as a person too, bizarrely enough. But you’re different now. I couldn’t have even considered a relationship with someone who called people of my mother’s birth ‘Mudblood’ for example. You’re not the person I thought you were, Draco, or, at least, the person you used to be. The Muggle- hating elitist bullying arse has gone. Although I admit you can still be a conceited twat.”

Draco smiled and leant forwards to kiss Harry. It wasn’t like the kisses they’d shared that afternoon; it was softer, gentler and chaste. He broke the kiss and smirked at Harry. 

“So I was your first? But the Weaselette? She was your girlfriend- you really did nothing with her?”

“We tried,” Harry replied. “But I…er… couldn’t go through with it, if you catch my drift? Let’s just say that Little Harry had worked out I was gay before I did and really didn’t want to cooperate by, er, rising to the occasion. And it just felt completely wrong, like I was trying to have sex with my sister or something.” Harry shuddered in disgust at the memory and Draco laughed.

“I just can’t believe you’d never done anything with anyone else before. I mean, you’re Harry fucking Potter, everyone wants you!” Harry smiled sadly. 

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it? Do people want me because I’m Harry and they like me for me, or do they want to go out with the Boy Who Lived? Having fame isn’t a good thing you know and I’d get rid of it in a heartbeat if I could. Draco, I’m not the kind to shag around or have superficial relationships. That’s why I was surprised I let it go as far as it did this afternoon, and that I more than wanted it to. But I don’t regret it, it was amazing. If we decide to do this I need to warn you, I’m going to want to take this slowly. Relationships and love mean a lot to me, and casual sex doesn’t. I will only sleep with someone when I’m a hundred percent committed to that person in body and soul. You will need to be patient with me.”

Draco reached out and took his hand. 

“Does that mean you want to give us a go, Harry?” Harry smiled. 

“Yeah, I really do. God, how weird is this? Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, a couple!”

“I think it sounds good. ‘Let me introduce you to my boyfriend Harry’. Yeah, I could definitely get used to saying that,” Draco replied, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. Harry chuckled lightly. 

“When you say it like that it does sound rather great. So… _are_ you my boyfriend now then?”

Draco answered him with another kiss, not quite as chaste as the one they’d shared a few minutes previously. 

“Oh yes,” he replied breathlessly. 


	7. A Step Closer to Mortality

---  
  
As the beginning of September rolled around, Harry was beginning to become frustrated. He was Ron and Hermione’s best friend, Snape’s unlikely student of the Dark Arts and Draco Malfoy’s even more unlikely boyfriend. He felt torn in three at times, trying to juggle the separate and completely incompatible parts of his life. But what was frustrating him more than all of that was the lack of progress he had made with Voldemort’s Horcruxes.

Despite having found one Horcrux, he had still not discovered a way to destroy it. And as for the locations of the remaining three… with the exception of Nagini, he had to confess he had absolutely no idea. The task Dumbledore had left him seemed less and less possible with every day that passed and Harry’s anger at his former Headmaster and desperation about the task ahead and the possibility of failing was growing. Now he thought about it, Dumbledore had given him woefully inadequate information, particularly when he knew he did not have long to live so time was short. Actually how to destroy the bloody things seemed rather a basic thing Dumbledore should have told him, as far as Harry was concerned. 

The first of September found him once again at The Burrow with Ron and Hermione, gathered round the kitchen table, racking their brains for possible locations of, and methods to destroy, the damn things. The Black library at Grimmauld Place had so far turned up nothing, despite the many books on Dark magic Harry had brought to The Burrow with him. 

“Harry, mate, what about hitting them with the Killing Curse?” Ron suggested eagerly. Harry grimaced.

“Ronald!” Hermione shouted, completely horrified. “How can you even suggest Harry could ever cast such… such complete evil?”

Harry ignored the bile that rose violently in his throat at Hermione’s words. He had not told Ron and Hermione about learning Dark magic, and certainly not about using the Unforgivables. Hermione’s reaction to casting it even at a part of Voldemort was all the confirmation he needed that his best friends must never, ever know about his use of the Avada Kedavra. However Dumbledore had managed to at least teach him something about the nature of a Horcrux, and in this case the argument whether to use the spell on a Horcrux or not was a moot one.

“It wouldn’t work, Ron,” he said simply. “The Avada Kedavra destroys the physical body a soul is contained in and the body dies. The soul is unharmed by the Killing Curse and goes… on, I guess. To wherever our souls go when we die. A Horcrux is part of a soul. Destroying one is the exact opposite of killing a person. We need to destroy the soul, not the body.”

He noticed Hermione staring at him, an impressed look on her features whilst Ron looked slightly crestfallen. “I do pay attention sometimes,” he laughed, in response to Hermione’s gaze. “Dumbledore may have missed out the part about actually telling me how to destroy the bastards, but I did pick up on that.” She smiled and returned to her book, _Magical Objects and Artefacts,_ but, as she had told Harry and Ron what felt like hundreds of times already, there was unlikely to be anything in it to help them.

“So, did Ginny get off okay this morning?” Harry asked carefully. He had felt strange all day, particularly at eleven o’clock when he knew the Hogwarts Express was steaming out of King’s Cross, when he’d felt a pang of longing to just be able to go back to school and be a normal seventeen-year-old for once. 

“Yeah, although Mum didn’t give up nagging me and Hermione about not going back until Dad practically pushed her out of the front door, telling her they’d be late and miss the train if they didn’t hurry up,” Ron replied. “She even tried last night, giving us both ‘The Lecture’. I don’t think she believed we weren’t going back to school, to tell you the truth. It was all my dad could to to keep her away for the afternoon today whilst we researched. They’re at Bill and Fleur’s. It’s weird, isn’t it, not being on the train. Even weirder to hear Hermione talk about things that are more important than education. I never thought I’d see the day; perhaps flobberworms do fly.”

Hermione’s head snapped up and she glared. Harry burst out laughing when Hermione threw her book at Ron, hitting him squarely on the head. He leant down and picked the book off the floor whilst Ron rubbed his head, scowling. 

“What the bloody hell was that for?” he demanded angrily. 

“For suggesting that the fact I think defeating Voldemort happens to be more important than some NEWT exams is in some way surprising,” she replied icily. Ron snarled and began his retort but Harry stood up quickly. 

“Right. If you two are going to argue, I’m going home.”

They both opened their mouths to protest but he silenced them. He smiled warmly to show he wasn’t irritated.

“Honestly, I need to getting back anyway. I… um… have a meeting with Snape this afternoon.” _We’re perfecting the Morbus Egresco curse, a particularly nasty curse and if either of you knew what I was doing you’d think I’d lost my mind completely._ “We’re going to see if we can get anywhere with the Horcruxes. I’ll see you both later.”

He stepped out of The Burrow, past the strong wards, and Apparated to Grimmauld Place. 

****

“Relax your wrist slightly and remember to bring it straight down at the beginning of the incantation then flick it at a forty-five degree angle to the left and stress the second syllable of _Egresco,_ ” Snape advised. Harry raised his wand, pointing away from Snape and towards the back of the empty room. 

“ _Morbus Egresco!”_ he commanded, remembering the wrist actions. Turquoise light, the same as had been fired at him in the ground of Malfoy Manor the night he rescued Draco, shot out of his wand, hitting the opposite wall and dissipating. Harry stared at it in satisfaction whilst Snape congratulated him. He thought this was a rather nasty spell and he’d only ever use it in an absolute dire emergency. When cast at an enemy, the turquoise light rapidly spread an illness to them, causing them to become instantly unwell. The illness progressed quickly in the victim which completely incapacitated them. It was obviously incredibly unpleasant but it could save someone on his side. 

“Again, Harry, you’re proving most competent in these spells. Tomorrow I wish to work on Obdormio. I expect this spell will meet your approval; it hits your enemy and instantly sends them into a deep sleep. This leads to eventual coma and death if the counter-charm is not performed by the caster, and only the caster, but if the counter-charm is performed there is no lasting damage to the victim. It does, however, require eye contact between caster and intended victim to be successful, which is why it is rarely used and usually unsuccessful. Also it is not possible to perform the spell non-verbally which means it is useless against the strongest opponents, such as Bellatrix or Voldemort himself. That said, I expect that you will be delighted to know you will be able to cast painless, effective Dark magic of this nature that leaves no lasting damage to the victim, should the caster intend that.”

Harry grinned. This did sound like a spell he could make his peace with. There was something, however, that had been bothering him in the ten days he had been learning Dark magic. 

“Why are none of these spells listed as Unforgivables? I mean, how can Sectumsempra, for example, or that sleep spell you just told me about which can cause people to die if the caster doesn’t utter the counter-curse, be worse than the Imperius Curse?”

“A fair question, Harry,” Snape replied, “as you are correct in essence, but remember that someone under the Imperius Curse can be commanded to do heinous acts, such as murder another, or commit suicide. It is far from a mild spell- taking someone’s free will from them is a terrible crime. It is true that the most violent of the Dark spells are, often, worse than even the Cruciatus Curse. Abscido Totalum, for example, completely severs all four limbs off a victim and causes much magical damage that cannot be repaired, nor can a magical replacement be attached. Most victims either die from shock orexsanguination. And, before you ask, I have no intention of teaching that spell to you as it would be a waste of my time. I know you would never use it. But to answer your original question, they are not Unforgivables because the Ministry are either unaware of them, or they have either Counter Charms or are able to be shielded against, unlike the Unforgivables. Dark spells are made by Dark wizards and the knowledge is shared amongst themselves. The spells are very often performed non-verbally too so the incantations remain unknown. When someone from the Ministry does learn of the spell it is whilst fighting Dark wizards and is usually the last thing they ever do unfortunately. That said, they remain highly illegal Curses, and use against another human being is still more than enough to land the caster a long stretch in Azkaban, should they be caught.” 

Harry let this sink in. He still wasn’t completely comfortable learning this type of magic, even though he accepted the reasons for doing so. He suddenly felt like he needed a rather large hug. _I know just the person who’ll be willing_. “I, er, I’m going upstairs to read for a bit. Thank you for this afternoon, Snape.” And he turned and left. 

“Harry.” Snape’s voice was gentle. Harry turned round. 

“I understand your reasons for not wishing to address me as ‘sir’ or ‘professor’ any longer, even when we are in this teacher/student role, and have therefore been calling me by my last name only. However it would not be inappropriate for you to address me as Severus now. I have been calling you by your given name for a number of weeks. Surnames just encourage hostility, don’t you think?”

Harry smiled. “Severus, then. Thank you, Severus. I shall see you at dinner.” With that, he left the room.

****

“What is this vile brown liquid you’ve served to me as a drink, Harry?”

Harry chanced a brief sideways glance at Draco and smiled at him fondly before returning his gaze to Snape. They both fought a laugh back as they studied Snape’s face. It wore the expression one might pull if they’d had the unfortunate experience of chewing on a particularly angry wasp.

“It’s called Coca Cola.”

“And that would be…”

“I like it,” said Draco. “Harry introduced me to it in Muggle London and I wanted more so we bought it when we went shopping.” ‘I like it’ was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought dryly. Ever since Harry had bought Draco his first Coke, Draco had been crazy for it and wanted it all the time. Apparently his distaste of all things Muggle didn’t extend to sugar-laden carbonated soft drinks. 

“It’s vile,” Snape replied. 

“You don’t have to drink it,” said Harry. “Besides, Draco had been paying for all the food as he’s the only one with access to Muggle funds at the moment thanks to his Gringotts card so it’s up to him what he has. What he wants, he gets.” Draco waggled his eyebrows suggestively and poked his pierced tongue out at Harry behind Snape’s back at this comment and Harry flushed and felt a tingle run down his spine. Snape, mercifully, missed this, as he turned once more to address Harry.

“After dinner, Harry, I need to talk to you. Alone.” 

Draco looked to make a noise of protest but settled for a disgruntled scowl instead. He was clearly becoming irritated at being left out of these little ‘chats’ with Snape. Harry stared at him. _I can’t keep the Horcruxes a secret forever. Dumbledore was wrong about so many things. Maybe he was wrong about having to keep them a secret from people I trust unconditionally. I think I should tell Remus about them, but what about Draco? Question is, do I trust Draco enough yet?_ It was a question he needed to work out the answer to. Fast. 

They finished dinner and cleaned up, after which Draco reluctantly and unwillingly exited the room. Snape closed the door behind him with his wand, staring at it appraisingly. He paused for a minute, a small sneer on his face. Harry watched, stifling a laugh, as Snape aimed his wand at the keyhole and uttered, almost lazily, “ _ Furunculus,”  _ which was immediately followed by a yelp from the other side of the door. This was instantly followed by the sound of loud cursing, which gradually got fainter as Draco walked away, no doubt in search of a good boil cure. Snape’s lips curled in victory and he put up a Silencing Charm on the door. 

His face sobered as he turned to look at Harry.

“This afternoon I finally made a breakthrough,” Snape informed him. He pulled out a tiny shrunken book from the pocket of his robes and resized it, before opening it. He guided Harry’s attention to a paragraph and Harry began to read. He felt his eyes widen. After he finished reading he looked at Snape and muttered, “I should have known.”

“And, pray tell, why exactly should you have known that basilisk venom was the most successful way to destroy a Horcrux?” Snape asked. 

“Tom Riddle’s diary,” Harry replied. “Didn’t Dumbledore tell you that was a Horcrux?” Snape shook his head, a look of astonishment on his face, and Harry once more cursed Albus and his lack of information to everyone. “It was that which gave Dumbledore the idea Voldemort was using Horcruxes in the first place. I destroyed it with a basilisk fang. I thought it had destroyed it because it was razor-sharp and the book yielded to it and was therefore beyond magical repair, but of course it was the bloody venom, I can’t believe we didn’t see it before!” He felt stupid and completely furious with himself. 

“Well, at least we know how to destroy them now,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll have that locket annihilated in a week.”

“And exactly how do you expect to get a supply of basilisk venom inside seven days?” Snape asked incredulously, pinching the bridge of his nose. Harry smiled wickedly at him.

“Same place I got the last lot. Severus, I don’t suppose anyone else could get into the Chamber of Secrets after it sealed itself once I escaped, in order to remove a basilisk carcass, could they?”

****

“I still say this is mental,” said Ron’s voice from somewhere near Harry’s right shoulder. “Brilliant and all that, but completely mental.”

“Ron! Be quiet!” Hermione’s voice from Harry’s left side quietly but firmly chastised him. “You’ll give us away.”

Harry had felt a sad stab of nostalgia when they Apparated into Hogsmeade and began the walk up to Hogwarts castle, even though it had only been a couple of months since he had last seen the castle. Even from this distance it was grander than a regal palace. To Harry, Hogwarts would always be home. They trudged up the path, strewn with the early fall of crisp autumnal leaves, glad no one was around to hear their footsteps as the leaves crunched under their feet. Harry was wearing his cloak whilst Ron and Hermione were Disillusioned besides him. 

“What time is McGonagall expecting us again?” Ron asked.

“ _Professor_ McGonagall, Ron, and her reply to our owl said she would meet us at the gates at twelve. Remember? She wanted to let us in whilst the rest of the school is at lunch so we wouldn’t be disturbed,” Hermione replied. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione’s owl to Professor McGonagall had been short, polite and to the point. They had simply requested access to the school, for reasons they couldn’t reveal but assuring her it was to do with the mission Dumbledore had left Harry and would help defeat Voldemort. She had replied straight away granting them access to the school and arranging to meet them at the gate to escort them into the castle. 

Professor McGonagall was waiting for them at the gates when they arrived. 

“Good afternoon, Professor,” Harry said to his former head of house, removing his cloak and showing himself to her. 

“Good afternoon,” she replied cordially. Harry noticed she had drawn her wand. “Before I can let you in, could you please tell me, what was Harry Potter doing back in his first year that caused me to deduct fifty points from Gryffindor and gave him detention?”

Harry smiled. It made perfect sense that Professor McGonagall would need to check he wasn’t some Death Eater Polyjuiced as him or something. The memory of the night also gave him reason to grin. Hagrid, Norbert, he and Draco as enemies. Ah, nostalgia. 

“I was helping Hagrid’s illegal dragon escape at one in the morning, Professor. Not that you believed me, but it really was the truth, it’s wasn’t just a cock and bull story to get Malfoy in trouble.”

Despite the small start she gave at the knowledge that Harry had, in fact, been rescuing a dragon she beamed and flung the gates to Hogwarts wide open. 

“Welcome home, Harry,” she said to him. “I guarantee I shall not follow you or otherwise try to discover what you’re here to achieve whilst you do whatever needs to be done. Please inform me when you need to leave.” She gave him a warm, genuine smile which Harry returned enthusiastically, then she turned and walked back into the castle. 

“Right,” said Harry to the other two as he slipped the cloak back over himself. “Quidditch pitch. We need brooms, as I don’t think we’ll have a phoenix to pull us out this time somehow.”

Harry and Ron each collected a broom (Hermione was going to ride on the back of Ron’s), quickly shrunk them, and put them inside the pocket of their jeans. Then they turned back towards the castle and headed for the main entrance. 

Harry could hear the loud chatter coming from the Great Hall as they made their way to the staircase. Again he fought the insanely ridiculous urge to go and join them. He hadn’t realised how much he would miss the place, despite all the negative things that happened at the end of his sixth year. Once he, Ron and Hermione had ascended the stairs and were on the second floor, Harry took off his cloak whilst Hermione removed the Disillusionment Charms on herself and Ron. They quickly made their way to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. He had butterflies in his stomach, he noticed, not because he was about to re-enter the Chamber of Secrets but the bathroom in which he had nearly killed Draco nearly four months previously. He shuddered at the guilt the memory caused.

Hermione pushed open the door and the trio entered the girls’ lavatory. Fortunately Myrtle wasn’t there. He pointedly didn’t look at the place where Draco had lain, semi-conscious and bleeding. Instead he made his way straight to the taps and located the one with the serpent.

“Are you ready?” he asked Ron and Hermione. They both nodded. Harry took a deep breath.

/ _Open_ / he hissed in Parseltongue. 

Just as it had four years previously, the Chamber of Secrets opened in front of his eyes, to reveal a large cylindrical tunnel. Taking a deep breath, he jumped straight down, and heard Hermione and Ron do the same. All three lit their wands to give some light to the otherwise pitch black chamber.

It was exactly as Harry had remembered it. The stench, the crunching of animal remains underfoot. He was suddenly mentally transported back four years to the end of his second year, and had to remind himself that no one’s life was in danger, and, this time, Voldemort was certainly not going to show up. 

“All right, mate?” Ron asked him grimly. He, too, had of course been with Harry that day back in 1993, but this was new for Hermione. She was staring around the Chamber with a look of fear, revulsion and genuine interest. 

The trio gingerly began picking their way across the remains of rodents and various other small mammals. Harry felt like they had walked for miles. He did not remember it being this far before. _Probably because last time you were terrified out of your wits,_ he thought to himself. They continued to descend further and further under the school, and as they did so, the temperature dropped dramatically. Harry began to shiver. 

Just then he heard Hermione squeal from behind him. He spun round, as did Ron, but relaxed when he saw Hermione was okay.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you both jump. It’s just that… it’s so cold down here. Harry, the basilisk body, in these temperatures, it’s not going to have-”

“-Decomposed,” finished Harry grimly, causing Ron to make a noise of revulsion next to him. He had imagined they were going to see the skeletal remains, but, he had to admit to himself, seeing a fully complete, albeit dead, basilisk was quite daunting. 

Eventually they entered the Chamber. Three pairs of eyes, wide and surprised, rested on the huge, perfectly preserved remains of the basilisk. Harry could still make out the gash wound in the roof of its open mouth, surrounded in sticky, congealed blood, where the sword of Gryffindor had penetrated the snake’s brain. Hermione let out a noise that sounded a cross between a cat being strangled and an owl hooting, whilst Ron could only murmur “bloody hell, Harry.”

Hermione walked to Harry’s side and slipped her arm around his waist. 

“How did you ever… I mean, look at the size of… you must have felt…Harry, you were _twelve years old,_ ” she said, a tone of disbelief in her voice. 

Harry hadn’t taken his eyes from the huge snake in front of him. He had kept his composure but inside he was reliving that day. Ginny, cold and close to death, Tom Riddle commanding the basilisk, the feeling of his own life slipping away as the venom seared his veins, Fawkes saving his life. He shuddered and forced down the lump in his throat. Instead he reached into his pocket and drew out the moleskin pouch Hagrid had given him for his birthday a few years ago, setting it down on the floor. He walked up to the basilisk’s mouth, reached up and, being extremely careful not to touch the razor-sharp tip, grabbed hold of a fang, and pulled.

Nothing happened. The fang was deeply and securely lodged in the basilisk’s mouth. Swearing lightly under his breath, Harry let go of the fang and drew his wand. He pointed it at the basilisk’s gum and quietly uttered, “ _Diffindo._ ” 

There was a loud ripping noise which was instantly replaced by the sickening smell of seeping blood; the Severing Charm had achieved its aim and sliced the gum. The fang now hung loose in the root of the snake’s mouth.Harry very carefully reached up, gave it a quick twist and pulled it free from its socket. Grinning in triumph, he turned to smile at Ron and Hermione, who wore equal expressions of pride, relief and revulsion. 

Harry walked over to his moleskin pouch and very carefully placed the fang inside before securing the pouch round his neck. 

“Right. Let’s get out of here,” he said to the other two. He quickly enlarged his shrunken broomstick as Ron did the same to his. He mounted the broom, kicked hard off the ground, checked to make sure Ron and Hermione were okay (Hermione was whimpering something about “Not liking this at all,” but Harry and Ron both ignored her), and flew back out of the Chamber. 

They landed back on the floor of the lavatory and the Chamber re-sealed itself. All three were panting hard. 

Hermione cast a quick _Tempus_ Charm. “It’s okay, the first lesson after lunch has started, the corridors will be clear,” she told the other two. Feeling mightily relieved that everything had, at least so far, gone to plan for once, Harry followed her out of the bathroom and headed to McGonagall’s office to tell them they were finished. 

****

“I still think we should be the ones there when you destroy it,” said Ron, mouth full of sandwich. The trio had stopped in a Muggle café for lunch, thanks to Hermione having Muggle money, and both The Burrow and Grimmauld Place being ruled out.

“Ron, I really, really need Snape there when it’s done,” Harry replied. “You remember what the diary tried to do to me. Or what the ring did to Dumbledore’s hand. It’s only because of Snape that Dumbledore survived as long as he did. Whatever is in there is going to have some kind of Dark protection and for that reason it’s going to be vital to have Snape with me when I destroy it. He is the one who has the best knowledge of what shit that might put up against me.” He paused, wrestling with himself before deciding his friends deserved to know the truth. Not the whole truth, but parts of it. “Erm… whilst we’re on the subject of Snape and Dark magic, he has… um, I mean, I’ve been… oh, fuck it. Right. Snape has been teaching me the Dark Arts.”

Ron choked on his milkshake, whilst Hermione turned the colour of pewter. 

“Harry, but why?” she asked quietly. Harry took a deep breath. 

“Because this is the kind of shit the Death Eaters will be throwing at us,” he replied. “Fight fire with fire. We’re not in the DA now, Hermione, this is real life and it’s frightening. I’m not crazy about learning it, but it makes sense. Hermione, this is war. We need to know everything we can to survive.”

“No, Harry.” Hermione was adamant. “Dark Magic is performed by Dark wizards. You’re better than that.”

Ron had kept strangely and, for him, unusually silent. Harry launched into the explanation Snape had given him about intent and purpose not the spell cast determining Dark or Light, but Hermione was stubbornly refusing to listen. Ron, however, surprised him. “It makes sense, Hermione. I mean, Harry is only going to use it in emergencies, right?” He looked at Harry questioningly and Harry nodded his confirmation. “See, there you go! He’s not going to turn Dark just ‘cause of a few spells, Hermione.” 

“No. I’m sorry, Harry, but I don’t agree with this,” Hermione replied sadly. “Those spells are foul, and evil, and I cannot believe you’d use them.”

Harry sighed. He had expected this answer from her. As much as Harry loved Hermione, if he had to admit to one fault of hers then it was her stubbornness and her refusal to see between black and white. There were no grey areas with her. 

“Well this is my decision. And you’re just going to have to trust me,” he replied, with a little more heat than he had intended. He toyed with himself once more. He might as well keep going now he’d started. “That’s not it. I’m going to tell Remus about the Horcruxes. And, um, Draco.”

The huge collective gasp from his friends drew several other customers’ eyes to their table. Harry waited for their attention to wane once more before continuing. “Dumbledore was wrong. About keeping it just within us. And Snape of course. Look, we’re getting nowhere, Snape’s getting nowhere. We need more opinions, more avenues to work from. And Draco has had Voldemort living in his house for months. He might actually know something.”

“Harry, you seriously cannot be thinking about letting _Malfoy_ know about these?” asked Ron, whose eyebrows were so far into his hairline they looked like they weren’t there. 

“I know you have no reason to trust him, Ron,” Harry continued. “And if the roles were reversed I’d think you have lost your mind too. But please, please trust me when I tell you he wants Voldemort destroyed as much as I do. He might know something we don’t. And it’s only thanks to him we have the locket, remember.”

“Harry, are you sure about this?” Hermione asked. Ron stared at her. 

“Of course he’s not sure! He’s gone bloody crazy! Harry, he’s a _Slytherin_ for fuck’s sake! You remember? All the shit he did last year? Death Eaters in the school, Bill’s face, I nearly died, all down to him!”

“Ron, lower your voice,” Harry hissed. “And I know everything he did. And you are perfectly aware it was out of desperation. Whilst what he did was terrible, he was frightened half to death, Ron. And frantic. And now he’s not. Away from his bloody insane bigoted family he’s actually okay. He’s even apologised about how he’s treated Muggles and Muggle-borns. And as for being a Slytherin, so fucking what? It’s only thanks to two Slytherins that we’ve come as far as we have. This is a war, Ron, in case you need reminding. Not a Quidditch match or something. This isn’t me sharing our latest tactics with their captain. It’s about saving us all from Voldemort. Malfoy can help. Trust me.”

“Harry,” Hermione’s voice was small. “Exactly a year ago you were desperately trying to convince us Malfoy was a Death Eater. And now you’re trying to convince us to trust him to help us destroy Voldemort! Make up your mind!” 

Harry was getting irritated now. 

“Yes, Hermione, last year I knew he was up to something. And neither of you listened to me, or believed me, that time either, and I was right. I’m right this time too and you’re not listening to me again. What do I need to do to get you two to show some faith in me? Everything I do, every instinct I have, you question. Dumbledore has left me a next to impossible task, and I’m going to whatever the fucking hell I can to succeed at it. We need more allies. Draco can help. I need you both to start trusting me more, or I don’t need your help.”

“So, do everything your way or piss off?” Ron said angrily. 

“That’s not what I said!” retorted Harry, his temper rising. “But, yes, I do need you to trust me. This is _my_ task, Ron, Dumbledore left it to me. I’m the one that has no bloody choice whether or not I do it. The rest of you all do. And because of that I have to do it the way I need to do it, make decisions my way. I need you two to trust me. And you don’t. I accept you have no reason to trust Malfoy. But, please, have faith that I do. So trust me if you can’t trust him.”

“No,” his friends replied in unison. Harry smiled sadly. 

“Then we have a problem,” he said regretfully. The three sat in silence. Harry drank his coffee, but left his sandwich uneaten, his appetite gone. 

“I think it would be best if you both went back to Hogwarts,” he said quietly, after a few minutes of silence had passed. Ron and Hermione both looked gobsmacked. “Look, I’m not angry, not really, and I don’t want to argue again. You’re my best friends and I love you both. But this isn’t working, is it? We’re getting nowhere. You can both still help me. I’ll alter the wards on Grimmauld Place when I get home to allow owls from you two through, and we still have the DA coins so we can talk to each other. You can research what you can, and if I come up with something significant I’ll let you know.”

He stood up and walked to the other side of the table. “We’ll meet up in a couple of weeks, okay? I’m sorry.” With that he left the café and, with a heavy heart, Apparated home.

****

The kitchen table was becoming the focal point of Grimmauld Place, and, once more, Harry found himself sat at it, Snape next to him, and joined by a bewildered Remus and an excited Draco. After arriving back from the Chamber of Secrets that afternoon, Harry had told Snape his wish to involve the other two in their plans and, to his surprise, Snape had agreed it was a good idea. He cleared his throat.

“Right. Well, you’re both here because there is something I want you both to know.” He reached round the back of his neck and removed the Horcrux, putting it down on the table. “You’ve both wondered what this is, and why it’s so important. I know you’ve both guessed it has something to do with Voldemort, but you probably don’t know quite how much. Dumbledore discovered something about Voldemort. About how he survived the rebounded Killing Curse the night he tried to kill me when I was a baby. Voldemort has Horcruxes, and this locket is one.”

Draco’s face just looked confused but Remus turned a shade of green and swayed on his chair slightly. 

“He has a Horcrux?” he whispered hoarsely. Harry gave a grim smile. 

“Horcruxes. Plural. Remus, what is supposed to be the magically strongest number?”

Remus gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white, and he closed his eyes and shuddered as he realised what Harry’s words implied. Harry thought he was trying to fight off revulsion. He knew how Remus felt.

“Sorry, but what is a Horcrux?” Draco interjected. 

“It’s a wicked piece of Dark Magic that seals a part of a wizard’s soul within an object,” Snape supplied. “As long as a Horcrux remains intact, the wizard whom the Horcrux belongs to cannot die. At this moment in time Voldemort is immortal, as his Horcruxes tether him to life. This is the task Dumbledore left Harry to carry out. He is trying to find and destroy them.” 

“Them,” Draco repeated breathlessly, at the same time as Remus said, “there are seven we have to find?” Both men looked incredibly pale and sick. Harry shook his head. 

“That’s where there is some good news,” he said. “There were only six; the seventh piece is Voldemort himself. And of those six, two have already been destroyed and that’s the third right there. After this there are another three. Two related to the Hogwarts founders, probably Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and the third is Nagini, Voldemort’s snake.”

“How do you destroy one?” asked Draco. 

“Well, it took us a while to find out, because apparently Dumbledore didn’t consider this information important and he never actually told me. But Snape found it in a book here in the library. Fiendfyre can be used, but it’s far too unstable and we’re more likely to end up dead than actually getting rid of the Horcrux if we use it. The most successful way is basilisk venom.”

“Oh, so handy we have an abundance of that available then isn’t it. I was actually wondering what we’d use all the excess we had for,” said Draco sarcastically. Harry allowed himself a small chuckle. 

“Actually, that brings me to the second part of why I brought you both here. Today I’ve been to Hogwarts and opened the Chamber of Secrets again. The basilisk I killed in our second year is still down there.” He opened the moleskin pouch and removed the fang, his lips curled in amusement at the reaction this gesture received. 

Even Snape, who knew perfectly well what Harry was doing that morning, gasped. Draco’s eyes widened in astonishment whilst Remus stared at the fang, muttering unintelligible words to himself. 

“You… Hogwarts… reopened the Chamber of Secrets and came back home with a bloody basilisk fang,” Remus stammered out. Then his face broke into a grin. “Why am I not surprised? Only you Harry. Only you could actually pull this off. I should be surprised but I’m getting used to you achieving the impossible.” The pride was evident to anyone who was listening.

Harry smiled at this compliment but he was only half paying attention. His face was focussed on Draco, who was looking pale and trembling slightly. “Are you OK?” he asked the blond in a voice so gentle and full of tenderness it caused Snape to stare at them both in wonder. Draco nodded, eyes never leaving the basilisk fang. 

“I’m going to help you, Harry. Whatever it takes. I’m going to be there and we’re going to destroy that evil fucker together. He’s not having you,” he replied. Harry beamed at him but managed to resist the urge to reach out and grab his hand. Both Harry and Draco missed the surprised and questioning look Snape gave the pair. 

“Right. Well. Let’s get rid of this thing then shall we?” Harry said. "I have no idea what’s inside it. But the diary tried to kill me and the ring had a curse which damaged Dumbledore so badly it gave him twelve months to live. So whatever is inside isn’t going to be pleasant.”

He took the basilisk fang in his right hand and took a deep, steadying breath, and opened it using Parseltongue. The he raised the fang above his head, before bringing it down swiftly into the centre of the locket. 

Instantly the kitchen was filled with a high-pitched scream, and two ebony arms created from what looked like smoke shot out of the locket. One grabbed Harry’s throat in a death-like grip, crushing his windpipe whilst the other covered his nose and mouth. 

Harry couldn’t breathe. He could make out the panicked voices of Snape, Lupin and Draco, all of whom had instantly drawn their wands and were firing curses and jinxes at the non-corporeal hands with no avail. His oxygen-starved brain was conjuring hallucinations in his mind of Voldemort and Sirius’, Cedric’s and Dumbledore’s deaths which were becoming more and more real as the physical world began to fade in a series of black and red swirling blobs in front of his eyes. _This is a really shitty way to die,_ was his final thought before he succumbed to suffocation and the world went black.

****

When Harry woke he realised it was dark, he was in bed, and Draco had fallen asleep half in an armchair, half draped across his bed. His hand was gripped firmly on Harry’s. Harry pulled his arm free to try and reach his glasses, and the movement roused Draco. He beamed when he saw Harry was awake, before launching himself forwards and capturing Harry in a hug. 

“Thank Circe you’re awake,” he said in a low whisper, handing Harry his glasses. Only once they were on his face did Harry realise Snape and Remus were both curled up, asleep, in armchairs in his room as well. 

“What happened?” Harry whispered back. “I remember the arms, and being choked, but then I passed out and knew nothing till I woke up just now.”

“It was Severus who got it off you,” Draco replied. “He knew it was a curse straight away but at first couldn’t identify which one. We were all panicking, then when you passed out I thought Lupin was going to collapse, and then Severus muttered something and a brilliant white light hit the arms and they sort of exploded. You made this really weird gasping noise then started breathing straight away again, but Severus gave you some Dreamless Sleep Potion as your throat was a right state. He’s healed you now but, oh, Harry, you were purple. When Sev first got the arms off you, I… I thought you were dead.” On the last word he broke into a small sob. Harry threaded his fingers into Draco’s hair and pulled him close, their lips locking. 

“Mmmm,” said Harry once the kiss broke. “I feel better now.” Draco let out a small watery chuckle as they pulled apart. The noise was, however, enough to wake up Snape and Remus, who were both delighted to see Harry was awake and well. 

“Whilst you were asleep, Severus told me everything. About Dumbledore I mean,” said Remus. “I’m pissed off with him too, kiddo. You did the right thing telling us, you know. I’m going to be there every step of the way with you to see Voldemort wiped off the face of the Earth.” He bent forwards and embraced him. “I thought I’d lost you, Harry. Never, ever do that to me again. I shall see you in the morning.” He left the room. 

Snape didn’t seem to know what to say, but his eyes shone with the emotions his mouth couldn’t convey. Harry was therefore not disappointed when all Snape could utter was a cordial, “glad to have you back with us, Harry,” before he too left the room.

“You’re not leaving as well, are you?” Harry joked. Draco smirked at him. 

“Try and stop me from staying and I’ll Hex you,” he murmured, then let out a very un-Malfoy-ish squeal as Harry reached over and pulled Draco on top of him. His lips crushed on to Harry’s and Harry sank happily into the wonderfulness of it all. 

Suddenly Draco broke the kiss and pulled himself up onto his knees. He flicked his wand at the lamp on Harry’s bedside table. Harry sat up, confused. Draco looked nervous. 

“You showed a lot of trust in me today, Harry,” he said, and Harry could hear the tremor in his voice. I… I need to trust you with something.” And he began unbuttoning his shirt. 

Harry suddenly realised what Draco was doing. Draco faltered as he went to remove his arms from the sleeves. Harry knelt in front of him, hands on his shoulders. “Go on,” he whispered. “It’s okay.” Encouraged by the words, Draco shrugged out of the shirt, then turned his left arm over so his hand was palm up, revealing the jet black Dark Mark branded onto his skin. Harry removed his gaze from it and focussed his eyes on Draco’s.

“You’re still beautiful,” he said quietly. He pushed the hair up on his forehead to reveal his scar. “Voldemort has Marked both of us. Neither of us had any choice. Not really. And he’ll fucking pay. You’re Draco. Just Draco. Not ‘Draco the Death Eater’. Let this be a reminder that the events of the past make us stronger. Not weaker.” 

He ran his right hand over the Mark, tracing the outline of the serpent before throwing his arms around Draco’s neck, and began kissing him deeply. 

Draco groaned and deepened the kiss even further. Harry felt his body responding as it had done the afternoon after he cast the Unforgivables. If he was going to back out then now was the time.

He didn’t want to. He pulled Draco flush on top of him, noticing Draco wanted this as much as he did. Draco pulled back from the kiss. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to go all weird on me again afterwards?” he asked breathlessly. 

“Not this time,” Harry replied, before pulling him back into the kiss. Draco started undoing the buttons on Harry’s shirt, before moving his lips to the nape of Harry’s neck. He licked and sucked on the sensitive flesh, causing Harry to gasp, as he wiggled out of his shirt. They both attacked each other’s trousers, undoing the zips and slipping out of them. 

“I’m still not ready for, you know,” Harry replied, but Draco didn’t seem to mind. He merely silenced him with another kiss.

“On or off?” he asked Harry, indicating their boxers. Harry thought for a moment, then tugged his own down before kicking them off, eliciting a huge groan of satisfaction from Draco before he enthusiastically removed his own. 

“Wait!” cried Harry, causing Draco to freeze. Harry flushed. “I, er, was just going to say we need to ward the door,” he said sheepishly. Draco let out a relieved chuckle, bent over to his jeans and pulled out his wand, before casting strong Locking and Silencing Charms at it. 

“There. I could make you scream now and no one will hear,” he said wickedly. Harry blushed once more, although Draco’s words shot directly to his groin. 

“Part your legs,” Draco commanded, and Harry was more than willing to cooperate. He did as he was told, then a second later felt Draco position is own body between them, before coming up so they were eye level. Then Draco ground down with his hips, erection crushing erection, and Harry completely lost himself. He began making a series of groans, pants and ‘Oh Draco, more’s which at any other time would have caused him much embarrassment. But all he could care about right now was the glorious, spine- tingling, toe-curling sensations Draco was drawing from him. He dug the nails of one hand into Draco’s back whilst the other came to rest on Draco’s buttocks as Draco continued to grind into Harry groin and thrust lightly whilst kissing every inch of him his mouth could reach. 

“Oh shit, going to… Merlin,” Draco panted. His rhythm sped up, the magnificent pressure increased and Harry realised he was seconds away himself. He arched his back off the bed, meeting each of Draco’s thrusts until, finally, they came almost simultaneously, and Harry was eternally grateful for the Silencing Charm that had gone up.

“That was fucking incredible,” Harry panted, as Draco tried to calm his breathing. That was the hardest, the longest I’ve ever- oh Merlin.” He wrapped his arms strongly around Draco, firmly sending him the signal that, this time, he was going nowhere.

Later, as Draco lay fast asleep in Harry’s arms, Harry was pondering. Pondering over his visit into the Chamber of Secrets. Pondering over Ron and Hermione. Pondering over destroying the Horcrux and almost dying for his trouble. But, most of all, he was pondering over the fact that he thought he had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy. 


	8. The Second Horcrux

_10 th September 1997_

_Dear Harry,_

_Ron and I are both so sorry. You have every right to feel disappointed in us. We let you down. We’ve thought about it, and you were right. Your instincts nearly always turn out to be good and we should have trusted you. We should have known that you wouldn’t just confide in Malfoy without reason._

_I’ve spoken to Ron about his childish views on Slytherins. He does need to grow up sometimes. He says he’s sorry._

_We’re back at Hogwarts. We arrived yesterday evening, much to Ron’s mum’s delight. It’s so strange being back. Everyone is asking where you are and what you’re up to. Ron will probably Hex the next person who mentions you._

_We’re not giving up. We’ll keep researching, Harry, and if we find anything, anything at all, we will be by your side. We will always stand by your side. And when you need us, we’ll be there._

_We love you, Harry._

_Hermione._

Harry reread the note that Pigwidgeon had delivered that morning and smiled sadly, trying to push away the bubble of regret which had risen each time he had read it. He folded the letter and slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans. Draco snaked his arms around his waist from behind and kissed him on the neck. Harry twisted in his arms, threw his own around Draco’s neck and captured his mouth in his.

“Are you still reading that bloody letter?” Draco asked him, in between kisses. Harry nodded. “Well, I have something that might take your mind off it for a while. I’ve had an idea about a possible Horcrux location.”

Harry stared, wide-eyed into his boyfriend’s face before breaking into a broad, genuine smile. 

“But that’s great! You bloody genius! Where?”

“Let’s wait for Sev and Lupin and I’ll reveal all,” smirked Draco, who then burst out laughing when Harry sprinted from his bedroom yelling, “Severus! Remus!” excitedly before hammering on their doors. 

Two minutes later and all four men were assembled in the kitchen, with a very smug Draco ready to give them information that, Harry hoped with all his heart, was going to bring them one step closer to defeating Voldemort. 

“Right,” said Draco, once he had everyone’s attention. “I was thinking about my father and all his connections earlier, and something came to me. I remember Mother telling me that in the late 1970s, Father earned quite a reputation as a prolific politician and was very influential in the British Ministry. So much so that in 1980, a couple of months before I was born, the Minister of the time, Minister Bagnold, sent my Father to Paris to negotiate with the French ministry on some international magical cooperation law that needed rewriting between Britain and France. During April and May 1980, my father was in and out of the French ministry. Even now I don’t know the nature of the visits entirely but he was definitely there more than he needed to be just to negotiate an ancient law. I think he could have easily been seeking out a place to hide something of Voldemort’s, and then eventually hid it, or told Voldemort where to hide it at least. From what you’ve told me about Voldemort wanting notable and significant locations for these bastard things, I think the French ministry would make a perfect candidate, don’t you?”

Harry resisted the urge to jump on Draco and snog his face off. Barely. He settled instead for shooting him a radiant smile. “You complete and utter, brilliant… Draco, this is perfect.” He turned to Snape. “We need to go to Paris! It could be there right now!” And stood up from the table abruptly.

Snape closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “Gryffindors. Harry, whilst your… enthusiasm for undertaking this task is commendable, your lack of any sort of preparation is not. You cannot jump into this head first and expect it to be a successful mission. For one, how do you intend to travel to the French ministry? International Apparition, Portkey and Floo work differently to national magical transportation- it is not possible to Apparate outside of the British Isles without acquiring ministry clearance first. Unless you’re the Dark Lord of course. Same with Floo access and Portkeys. This is to help protect national security. Therefore in order to get to France we will, most unfortunately, be reliant on Muggle transportation as for obvious reasons we cannot seek such permission-” Draco’s face fell- “and once we arrive there is the small matter of how we actually get into the ministry.”

“Bill and Fleur,” said Remus loudly, an excited expression on his face. “I mean, Harry, can you owl them? Fleur’s father works for the French ministry, and Fleur is in the Order now. I’m sure he’ll be able to create some bogus reason why we need to be in the ministry. Severus, do you have any Polyjuice brewed at the moment?” 

“I do. I have enough to get us into wizarding Paris and out again, but that is it. It would be three hours’ worth each maximum,” Snape replied. 

“Right then,” Remus continued. “So, Harry, write to Fleur, ask her to speak with her father and arrange for the four of us- under false names- to have a ‘meeting’ scheduled with him. We’ll grab some hairs from Muggles on the way for the Polyjuice so we won’t be detected. I’ll find out what I can about the layout of the French ministry and Severus and I can research possible locations. Well done, Draco, this information is gold dust.”

“Couldn’t we just owl my father and ask him if he hid an object or told Snakeface where to hide it, and if so, where?” Draco asked. All three answered with a loud, resounding, “NO!” causing Draco to jump.

“Sorry, didn’t meant to shout,” said Harry. “It’s just, we already asked your mum about the locket. Now if we start asking about other objects it’s going to draw suspicion. We can’t let anyone- _anyone_ \- else know what we’re doing, or even hint at it. We’re just going to have to wing it and take a gamble on this.” Draco scowled at this but didn’t argue. 

“I’ll quickly write to Bill and Fleur and then go and book some flights. Draco, you need to come with me, I need your card in order to pay for them. We’ll find an internet café and book them online.” Draco stared at Harry, his face completely blank. 

“I have no idea what the fuck you just said,” Draco replied. Harry rolled his eyes. 

“To get to Paris we need to go in an aeroplane. It’s a vehicle that flies in the air- surely even you know what one of those is? The internet is… oh never mind, I’ll show you when we get there.” He quickly _Accioed_ some parchment and a quill and began writing.

“Harry,” Remus called as Harry furiously wrote. “I’m coming with you, no arguments. But the full moon is in five days, on the sixteenth. We cannot go anywhere until the eighteenth at the earliest. It’s still only a week away,” he added gently, in response to Harry’s slightly crestfallen face. 

“And also we need documentation,” Snape added. “I’m sure Muggles can’t leave the country without some sort of official documents.”

“Can you please arrange for us to somehow have passports then, Severus? I’ll book the flights. Come on, Draco.” He handed the note to Remus. “Can you get this to Bill please? Hecate won’t take this for us.” And Harry dragged Draco to the door, threw his cloak over them both, and Apparated them into Muggle London. 

****

“What names shall we use?”

“I don’t give a fuck, Harry. Just book the flights.”

Draco had had to admit he was grudgingly impressed with this particular Muggle technology. A small square machine that allowed you to buy things and book things and retrieve a world of information in seconds was really quite ingenious. Harry had given him a very basic guide round the internet, telling him about how he’d stolen goes on his cousin’s computer over the summers when the Dursleys were out, and made comments about how easier it would be if wizards could email each other or speak on the phone (Draco had been interested to see Muggles talking into small black rectangles pressed to his ears and was pleased to know what they were for), instead of relying on birds to communicate. But being exposed in London was making him nervous. He wanted to be back behind the security of Grimmauld’s wards.

“There. Done.” said Harry in satisfaction, after a few more minutes. “The tickets will be waiting at Gatwick for us on the eighteenth. Let’s see if Snape has found out how to conjure passports. They’re the documents we’ll need to leave the country.”

****

“And where the bloody hell did you manage to get four genuine passports from in the hour I was out the house?” 

“Let’s just say that your neighbours at number thirteen shall not be travelling abroad any time in the near future.”

Harry stood in the drawing room in awe of Snape’s magical skills. He had not managed to be a spy for the Order without Voldemort detecting him for nothing. He had entered the house next door under a Disillusionment Charm and simply _Accioed_ the passports from a drawer in the living room, and left again, whilst the entire family were present in the same room, by conjuring an illusion of a terrific and violent thunder storm which was visible from their living room window only to distract them. The next part of Snape’s magic made Harry smile - even after six years back in the magical world he was still surprised by the sheer beauty of subtle magic. Snape took the names Harry had booked the airline tickets under and cast a charm on each passport. He then watched in wonder as the name, date of birth and photo changed. With tickets, documentation and even a Muggle hotel all sorted, Harry just had the almost unbearable task of sitting on his hands to wait for Fleur’s reply.

****

_Dearest Harry,_

_It is wonderful to hear from you! I have spoken with my father and he is very happy to help you get into the ministry on the 19 th September. He has arranged your ‘meeting’ for 0900 in the morning, as this is when the building is most busy and you will be processed through security the quickest. He needs the aliases the four of you will be using in order to schedule your appointment with the security desk in the main reception. Please can you send them with Cernunnos after reading this letter._

_Chaleureusement,_

_Fleur xx_

Harry’s nerves relaxed slightly upon receiving the note; he quickly scrawled the names he, Draco, Snape and Remus were using whilst in France onto a piece of parchment and sent the horned owl back into the cool autumn day. 

****

Draco couldn’t help it. He thought he did quite well. Better than Harry anyway. In fact he managed not to laugh for a whole forty-five seconds whilst Harry couldn’t hold it in at all. Even Remus had turned his head away, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Snape scowled, and glared but it made no difference; in fact, the ‘I’m going to kill you’ glare just made the overall effect even funnier. 

Snape was clad in navy blue skin tight jeans, and a black fitted long sleeve t shirt with a smiley face icon in neon yellow on the front that Harry had bought for him from Camden Market the previous afternoon. Harry had also spelled the top to refuse any alteration charms Snape would no doubt try on it. 

“I will not wear this,” Snape said in the quiet, icy voice he used when he was seething inside. “You did this deliberately, you vile, insolent little-”

“If you don’t wear this then you can’t come,” Harry interrupted. “There’s no way you can wear wizarding robes and there’s no time to buy anything else. The flight is in two hours and we’re leaving for the airport now.” Harry stared at Snape, the corners of his mouth still fully curled up in amusement. “Does this mean you won’t wear the baseball cap I picked out either?” He held out a cap with ‘magical in bed’ written on it. Snape reached out, took hold of the cap, waved his wand and uttered an incantation Harry couldn’t quite hear, and turned the cap into a Bludger. He threw the Transfigured Bludger straight at Harry at full force. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then, Sir?” Harry laughed, quite brightly as he ducked it easily. “Come on, we need to go. You look gorgeous, Severus.”

All four Apparated to Gatwick. Harry led the way into the departures area of the North Terminal, and walked up to the ticket clerk. After a few minutes he returned to the others, tickets in hand. “Let’s go and check in,” he said. 

No one had any luggage to check in as they were returning in two days’ time if all went well, so check-in was simple and quick. Going through security was a different manner. 

“Excuse me, sir,” the security guard said, addressing Draco. “Could you stand to one side please? Remove your shoes.”

Draco glared at the man and looked at Harry. Harry cursed the gods of fate that had chosen _Draco_ of all people for a random search. He gave a subtle nod to Draco indicating he should do what the security guard said. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but this… um, stick is not allowed on the flight,” the guard said, as he removed Draco’s wand from his jeans pocket. “It counts as a weapon. We’ll have to confiscate it and you can have it back on your return…”

Suddenly the man stopped talking and handed Draco his wand back. “All seems to be in order, sir, have a good flight.” 

Draco was a good enough actor to not let his confusion show- he quickly picked up his shoes from the X-ray machine, put them on and walked away, muttering under his breath about “fucking Muggles” and “sticks.” Harry quickly followed him into the departure lounge.

“That was bloody close,” said Harry, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Fortunate that I can cast a wandless, non-verbal Confundus Charm,” said Snape, a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips. 

They took seats in the departure lounge and waited for their flight to be called for boarding. Unfortunately this gave Draco a prime view of the take-off runway through the huge glass wall; his eyes were as wide as saucers and his face deathly white as he saw a Boeing 747 throw itself down the runway at a speed not even a Firebolt could compete with and launch into the sky. 

“I… I can’t go in that… giant… mental fucking thing,” he said, his voice trembling. Harry put his arm round him and pulled him close. Draco leant in to the embrace, which once more drew a suspicious look from Snape who was sitting opposite them. 

“Draco, this is safe. It’s the safest form of transport. Well, Muggle transport anyway,” he added as Draco opened his mouth to argue. “The pilots train for years, and planes hardly ever crash and… that didn’t help did it?” Draco shook his head, and Harry thought he could see tears in Draco’s eyes. “Look, do you want to go and look at the duty frees? Erm, that’s shopping.” Draco’s mood immediately picked up and he smiled at Harry as he led them, hand resting on Draco’s right forearm, to the shops. 

****

The actual flight, bar one or two minor incidents, was peaceful. Draco had gripped Harry’s hand so tightly he left nail marks and screwed his eyes shut on the actual take off, and Snape appeared to be experiencing similar emotions to him sat next to Remus- although he managed to keep his composure better. Harry figured that no amount of fear would ever compel him to grab a Marauder’s hand in comfort. Both Draco and Snape point-blank refused the in-flight meal, which was a lukewarm, slightly congealed pasta dish served in a plastic container with a portion of wilted salad on the side and a stale cake for dessert, and pushed their helpings away, an identical look of revulsion on their faces. Remus, who was still recovering from the full moon, tucked in heartily to his.

Harry looked over at Draco’s face, and gave him a sympathetic smile. Draco still clearly hated every second of the flight. 

“Are you okay?” he asked the blond. Draco nodded grimly. 

“Is this your first time in a plane too, Harry?” he asked. 

“Yes. Let’s just say my aunt and uncle weren’t overly keen to have me around and wouldn’t in a million years have taken me away with them. The couple of times they did go abroad on holiday I was left with our Squib neighbour.”

“But aren’t you, you know, a bit scared?”

“Of the plane? Not really. I’m a bit apprehensive and prefer to fly on my broom, but, to be totally honest, on the list of ‘stupid, scary and crazy things Harry Potter has done,’ flying in an aeroplane doesn’t even make the top fifty.”

The flight landed on time and the four wizards passed through passport control with no problems. As no one knew what the hotel looked like in order to Apparate, however, Harry hailed a Muggle taxi outside the airport, and Draco spoke to the driver (in perfect, fluent French- the sound of which shot straight to Harry’s groin) and told him the name of the hotel. Only when they pulled up at the hotel’s entrance did they realise they’d completely forgotten to bring some francs with them and they had no money to pay the fare. The driver became angry and began arguing with Draco.

“ _Obliviate.”_

“Severus!”

“What do you suggest we did then, Lupin?”

“Fine. But we’ll try and get some Muggle currency from somewhere. That’s dishonest and unfair.”

Snape simply sneered at Remus and strode into the lobby, quickly followed by the other three, leaving the dazed and confused taxi driver wondering why he was outside the hotel and how he got there in the first place. 

****

“Combien des chambres monsieur?” the receptionist asked Draco.

“Deux.”

“Et les lits?”

Draco glanced quickly over at Harry and smirked. “Un avec les lits jumeaux, et un avec le grand lit.” The receptionist scanned the party of wizards and raised his eyebrows, obviously surprised that Draco had asked for a double bed in one of the rooms. Draco narrowed his eyes, raised one of his own eyebrows back and stared him down, the look clearly saying, ‘surely some men have relationships with other men in France too?’ He handed over his card to pay for the rooms and took the keys. 

Snape and Draco both paused to complain loudly about the lifts, whilst Harry and Remus exchanged a look and laughed. Harry was slightly dismayed to see his and Draco’s room was adjacent to Snape and Remus’, until Draco lent forwards and whispered, “Silencing Charm,” in his ear, his hand giving the slightest hint of a touch to his arse. Harry shuddered and he didn’t think it was the sensation of Draco’s breath on the back of his neck causing it. Instead he gave an enthusiastic and loud “goodnight!” to Snape and Remus, despite it only being eight in the evening, and virtually pushed Draco through the door to their room. 

Snape and Remus stood and stared at each other. 

“I do believe that something more than friendship has developed between those two,” said Snape, his tone even but his eyes shocked. He eventually gave up with the stupid Muggle plastic card-door-opener key thing that refused to open the sodding door, and cast an Unlocking Charm on it instead. He walked inside leaving a stunned Remus staring at Harry and Draco’s bedroom door, before walking inside himself. 

****

The following morning the four rose early and breakfasted in the hotel dining room. They were all dressed in Muggle clothing (Harry having produced a far more appropriate outfit for Snape to wear than his travelling clothes from the previous day), their wizarding robes shrunken in their pockets. After breakfast they studied a map Lupin had brought with them of the French ministry, complete with Apparition coordinates. Snape quickly used an incredibly well-aimed non- verbal Severing Charm on the hair of four Muggle diners before _Accioing_ it, and discreetly adding it to four tiny vials that Harry knew contained Polyjuice. They stoppered the vials, left the dining room, exited the hotel, then Snape and Remus Apparated Harry and Draco via side-along to the location given in the map. 

They arrived in central Paris outside a very unremarkable-looking building on the bank of the Seine. 

“How do we get in then?” Draco asked. All four looked around for some sign of an entrance. After a couple of seconds, Harry spotted a coin-operated toilet cubicle a little away from where they stood. Remembering the rather normal-looking phone box as the entrance to the British ministry, he was sure this was the visitors’ entrance. 

“There,” he said, indicating with a jolt of the head.

They approached the toilet. It had a sign on it which Draco translated as ‘out of order’, which confirmed in Harry’s mind this was what they were looking for. 

“This is definitely it,” said Remus, his wand discreetly poking out of his sleeve. “This cubicle has known magic all right. Let’s go and, um, change first then come back.”

The four quickly disappeared down a nearby deserted side street and Snape opened a garage door. They all slipped inside, and removed their Muggle clothing. Snape handed out the vials of Polyjuice. Harry, who had had experience with the taste before, pinched his nose before swallowing. He experienced the very unpleasant sensation of transforming, before quickly dressing in his wizarding robes. He looked in the mirror- Snape had chosen well for him. The man reflected back was about the same height so his robes and shoes fitted well. His hair was a deep rich brown, a couple of shades lighter than his natural black, and his eyes were a brilliant blue. The man whose identity Harry was borrowing didn’t wear glasses so Harry removed his and stowed them in his pocket. Remus and Snape were also both brown-haired, although Remus a much lighter brown than Snape. Draco, however, had been given the identity of a man in perhaps his 40s; his black hair was sprinkling with grey and he had rich, deep chocolate-brown eyes. In fact Harry would have said this man was the epitome of sophistication had he not be wearing a childish, sulky Malfoyish pout as he checked his reflection in the car wing mirror. He was also a few inches taller than Draco and the robes were not a good fit. Snape altered them with a quick spell. They quickly shrunk their Muggle clothes, exited the garage, heading back to the public loo.

“Right,” said the person who was really Remus. “In we go then. _Alohomora.”_

The toilet door swung open and they all hastily clambered inside. Once they were all inside, the door closed automatically and Remus cast a _Colloportus_ on it to make sure no one from outside could enter. 

“Now what?” said the person who was really Draco, in a slightly irritated voice. He started however, when a loud, deep, male voice boomed out, “Bienvenue visiteur au ministère de la magie. S'il vous plaît indiquer vos noms et usages.”

Draco quickly told the bodiless voice the bogus names and the details of their meeting with Monsieur Delacour. Four metallic name badges cluttered onto the floor from the hand dryer as the voice wished them an “agréable journée.” Harry grabbed one of the badges at random- the names didn’t really matter- and attached it to his robes, just in time before the floor below them opened up and the four wizards fell down what resembled a giant slide. 

“What a fucking undignified way to travel,” Draco complained quietly when they got to the bottom, careful not to let anyone catch his English and draw any more attention to himself than their rather clumsy entrance already had as he picked himself up off the floor. Snape looked equally scandalised whilst Remus simply stood up quietly. When they all were back on their feet and brushed their robes down they stared at the building. 

The welcoming hall was octagonal in shape, and each side led off to a different floor with its own lift, rather than one lift that took visitors to all floors. The walls were incredibly high, and Harry suspected it had an enchanted ceiling like the one at Hogwarts. The tall white marble walls were frequently covered with inscriptions in gold and silver lettering which Harry obviously didn’t understand, although he could pick out certain words, like ‘magique’ for example.There was a statue and a small pool of water, just like the Fountain of Magical Brethren, except this one featured a Hippogriff attacking a Centaur. Draco made a comment along the lines of “do they really think we’re scared of a Hippogriff?” and Harry gave a loud cough that sounded like ‘Buckbeak’ to Draco, who sulked in response. 

Monsieur Delacour was correct; the ministry was very busy with workers arriving, so they were passed through security very quickly. Harry already knew from Remus’ map that the Horcrux, if it was indeed here, was likely to be in the equivalent of the British Department of Mysteries. 

Draco studied the lift floor guide, which was a huge engraved golden sign in the middle of the atrium. “Département des Mystéres. That’s it,” he said to the others. Harry snorted. 

“Draco, even with my shitty knowledge of French I could have worked that out. Anyway, we need to take lift eight. It’s that one there,” he said, indicating with a point. 

When they exited the lift Harry took one look at his surroundings and shuddered, sucking in a huge gulp of air as Remus’ arm automatically wrapped tightly around his shoulders. 

“I know Harry, I know,” he muttered soothingly. 

“Know what? said Draco, somewhat obnoxiously. 

“That this place looks exactly as the Department of Mysteries in London looks, and that is the place I lost the closest thing I’ve ever known to a father,” Harry replied waspishly, pausing to light his wand. The grey-haired Draco’s tanned face paled. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. Harry gave him a weak smile to show Draco he was forgiven. 

After a few minutes’ walking, Harry realised his eyesight was becoming blurry. He looked over at Remus, Snape and Draco and saw they were all beginning to return to their normal selves. He removed the glasses from his pocket and slipped them on. 

“Does anyone have the slightest idea where we’re going?” he asked. “We could end up walking around here all day.”

Remus and Snape had their wands drawn, and both were looking for traces of Dark Magic. Harry was reminded horribly of the cave he and Dumbledore visited when Dumbledore had searched the cave for traces of magic as he watched the two men. 

After what felt like hours of walking, and minute wand movements, both Snape and Remus reacted at the same moment to a small portion of red brick that was embedded in the otherwise black corridor. 

“This place is concealing very Dark Magic,” said Snape. “I do believe we have found its hiding place.”

He performed a non-verbal Vanishing Spell and the small portion of brick disappeared. They climbed through the small hole and Snape ringed the hole with a large white circle before repairing the wall with his wand. As soon as the room was sealed it plunged into darkness. All four quickly lit their wands and began scanning their surroundings. 

They were standing in a room that looked far bigger than it could have possibly have been from the corridor. It was about the size of the Great Hall, but circular. The walls appeared to be either black or a very dark blue; Harry couldn’t quite tell in the light. The ceiling was high and appeared to be made of glass, although no light filtered down from it. Harry could make out a coat of arms on it that he believed was the French ministry’s crest. There were no windows and the room smelled damp and mouldy, as if no one had entered for decades. In the room lay a series of objects, all of which seemed to be covered in a thick layer of dust. Wondering if one of these could be the Horcrux, Harry hurried over to them only to be called back by Remus. 

“No, Harry, he wouldn’t have left it as exposed as this. If the Horcrux is here then it’s not one of those items.”

“What do you suggest we do then?” Harry replied, then, realising he probably sounded irritated and quite rude, added, “I mean, where should I start looking?”

“We’re going to have to scan every single area of this room,” Snape said. “Every brick, every tile, every floorboard. There will be some kind of mark, a symbol, that the Dark Lord or Lucius will have left that indicate the Horcrux’s location, although I do believe now it is more plausible the Dark Lord himself hid this. Something that can indicate a secret door, passageway or cellar. At this stage I am confident enough to say, Draco, that congratulations are in order. Your information has proven fruitful.”

Draco nodded his acknowledge of his compliment and began working. Harry pointed his own wand at a brick and began the painstaking task of scanning each brick carefully for a tiny symbol, most likely a snake, that would indicate the presence of a Horcrux.

****

“We’ve been searching for hours,” complained Draco. “Are you sure it’s here? And I’m hungry.” Everyone ignored him and carried on searching. 

“There!” said Remus finally, after about another hour had passed, holding his lit wand to the wall. Harry rushed to where Remus was indicating. On one of the bricks about eye level with Harry was a tiny engraved serpent, no bigger than a thumbnail that could easily have been overlooked, that resembled the one on the taps at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. 

“Well, that confirms it then,” Harry said grimly. “Voldemort hid the Horcrux here, not your father, Draco. That means this is going to be more difficult than I’d have liked really. At least we know it’s definitely here now I guess.”

He took a deep breath and concentrated. / _open_ / he hissed. Instantly the bricks folded back to reveal a small archway that reminded Harry horribly of the veil Sirius had fallen through. His stomach was churning. He made to step through, but Snape flung an arm across his path. 

“Wait, Harry,” he said, and began casting a complicated charm in Latin on the arch. When he finished his face was grim. “Unfortunately it is as I feared. The arch is warded. Only a Parselmouth can enter. If the rest of us try there could be… serious repercussions. I’m sorry, I cannot break the wards. They are amongst the strongest I’ve seen.”

“Then I’ll go alone.” Harry’s voice was determined. Before Snape could argue, or Remus try and reason with him, and without looking at Draco’s face because, _fuck_ he couldn’t bear seeing the worry there, he stepped through the archway and into an emerald-green chamber, with silver serpent decorations all over the walls. Harry had a mad moment when he imagined this is what the Slytherin dormitories would resemble.

/Greetings speaker of our tongue/ hissed an extremely large python, as it coiled around his body and squeezed uncomfortably. It poked out its tongue at Harry. /You do not taste like Him. You taste sweeter/. Harry gave a dry laugh. 

_ “Do you know what I seek?”  _ Harry hissed at the snake. 

/We know. And you must prove yourself worthy of claiming it, human. We have a test. Fail the test and the consequences are severe/

A shudder ran through Harry’s body. What type of test? Physical fighting he could handle, but if it was something that required logic, then he was well and truly-

/The test is a riddle, speaker/ (Harry swore under his breath in English and used the word Hermione had told him off for using weeks ago) /Solve the riddle, prove your intelligence, and the treasure you seek is yours. Fail to do so and you will suffer/

_This must be Ravenclaw’s artefact,_ Harry thought. _A test of logic and intelligence seems fitting protection for this one_. _Riddle’s Riddle_ , he thought dryly. Harry had never wanted Hermione with him more than in this moment. 

At that moment a loud hissing noise from behind him made him turn sharply and jump. Lined up in front of him, heads facing away and tails closest to him so they were facing the same direction as Harry, was a row of brightly coloured snakes. They were all of equal length and Harry thought he could guess where this was going. 

/Human, to claim your prize you must choose a snake to bite your arm from the seven in front of you. Their magic needs to flow in your veins to access your treasure. Only one of us holds this magic. Four of our number will cause death. Two will cause permanent paralysis and blindness. Choose wisely and the bite will be painless and heal as soon as you leave this chamber. Choose poorly and you will suffer pain worse than you have ever experienced in your life. Name only one snake./

Harry swallowed. His throat had gone very dry. Suddenly, in unison, the seven snakes began to hiss,

_Neither of the ends are your friends but only left holds death Receive a bite from the middle snake and breathe your final breath Darkest or lightest and you shall live although only one shall let you by Fail to solve our puzzle and you will surely die. Look to the left of certain death and you shall claim your prize Choose poorly and the poisonous snakes will ensure your sad demise._

Fuck. It was just like being back in his first year trying to stop Voldemort getting the Philosopher’s Stone. Harry studied the line of coloured snakes once more. 

Purple.Yellow.Black.Orange.White.Green.Red. 

He listened to the riddle a couple more times; the snakes seemed to be content to repeat it.

“Okay,” said Harry aloud in English. “Darkest or lightest shall let me live although only one shall let me by. That means either black or white is the magical snake, but the other will cause paralysis. Um, neither of the ends are my friends, but only left holds death. Right, purple is on the left end so that will kill me, and red is on the other end, so must be the other paralysis bite. Middle snake- that’s easy, orange is lethal as it’s in the middle. But which is it? Black or white?”

He listened to the riddle again, certain of the two he’d narrowed it down to, but not sure whether he needed black or white. 

“Look to the left of certain death… to the left… no! Wait! The riddle tells me orange is certain death, and black and white sit either side of that one! Black is on the left! It’s black!” 

Amazed at his own logic in circumstances where he had trouble remembering how to spell his own name even, he confidently hissed, / _black_ /. 

Without even a second’s pause the black snake struck forwards, sinking its fangs into Harry’s right forearm. He yelped in surprise but mercifully not in pain, and felt his entire right arm turn freezing cold. He looked at his arm; two tiny puncture wounds were dripping blood. He began to panic, thinking he had chosen wrong, when the coloured snakes once more disappeared and the python curled itself around him. 

/Human speaker to snakes. You chose wisely/. At these words Harry realised the cool feeling had spread throughout his body and his vision had altered. He realised the magic allowed him to see through wards that only the snakes could see through. And there, just beyond a ward, on top of a glass column, was a tiara of some kind. 

Hoping this wasn’t some kind of sinister joke or trap, Harry walked over to the tiara, and tentatively reached out and picked it up. His body flooded with relief when he saw engraved on it, _Wit beyond Measure is Man’s Greatest Treasure._ Ravenclaw’s motto. He’d done it. He had got another Horcrux and Voldemort was another step closer to becoming killable once more. 

/ _Thank you_ / he hissed to the python, and felt giddy when he saw the exit to the chamber appear. He practically ran out of it, into Draco and Remus’ arms. Even Snape patted him on one shoulder. 

“Look what I got!” he beamed triumphantly. “And I had to use my brains to get it!”

“Then it’s a miracle you managed to retrieve it at all. Congratulations, Harry,” Snape added, and he sounded genuine after his opening jibe. Then he reached into his robes and pulled out more vials of Polyjuice for them all. Harry noticed as he drank his that the wound on his arm had indeed healed and his body felt its normal temperature once more.

The journey back through the ministry was uneventful and much quicker. Harry had the tiara stored in his robes as he didn’t dare shrink it. They quickly changed in the garage they used that morning then Apparated back to their hotel. Remus assembled them all in the room he and Snape were sharing and Draco called down for room service. 

“Come on then, let’s see it,” said Draco impatiently as Harry filled them in with what happened with the snakes in the chamber. Harry put the tiara onto Remus’ bed. Snape gasped as he good a close up view for the first time. 

“Harry, this is Rowena Ravenclaw’s lost Diadem. It has not been seen since Rowena herself walked the corridors of Hogwarts. How the Dark Lord acquired it is beyond me, but I’m delighted that we have it.”

The knock on their door made them jump, and Harry hastily stowed the Diadem under the duvet as the waiter brought in their dinner. They ate mainly in silence. Harry was stunned when Snape proposed a toast for Harry, for once more “being a stupid, hot-headed Gryffindor who leaps before he looks. And Merlin knows where we would be if he didn’t.”

When Harry started yawning, Remus ordered him back to his room, and smirked when Draco eagerly jumped up to leave too, making a mental note to have a discussion with Harry as soon as they arrive back home. Snape locked the Diadem in their hotel room safe and set up a strong anti- theft ward, as Harry and Draco wished them both good night. 

**** 

“I’m going to take a shower,” Harry said sleepily when they arrived back in their room. “It’s been a long day.” He walked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. He quickly brushed his teeth and stripped, then stepped under the stream. He shut his eyes as the hot water caressed his skin. So lost in it was he that he didn’t hear the door open and Draco enter. He jumped when he felt Draco’s lips at the nape of his neck. 

“Couldn’t concentrate out there. Thinking about you wet and soapy and very naked in here,” Draco murmured, his hands tracing Harry’s sides. Harry let out a sigh of delight and felt his body react. He turned his head sideways and allowed Draco to capture his mouth in his. He noticed Draco had removed his own clothing too before entering the bathroom.

Things rapidly became heated. Harry turned fully in Draco’s embrace so they were face to face, and deepened the kiss, tongues and teeth clashing, both his hands twisted in Draco’s hair, whilst Draco’s rested on his hipbone. He walked Draco backwards until he came up against the tiles. Draco hissed as the sudden coolness touched his hot skin. 

“Need you. Want you,” Harry whispered huskily in Draco’s ear, then began to kiss and suck on his neck, eliciting a wanton groan from the blond, who was breathing hard and seemed incoherent. 

Harry lowered his kisses until he was kissing Draco’s chest. The water from the shower was running over his firm torso, causing his nipples to pebble on contact. Harry licked first the left, then the right, swirling his tongue around the hard flesh and causing Draco to tremble. Then Harry sank to his knees. 

He buried his tongue in Draco’s navel, and stroked both his hands up and down Draco’s back, caressing his buttocks. Then with one hand he reached round and cupped Draco, gently fondling and drawing a huge gasp of arousal from him. 

“Harry,” Draco breathed. “Please.”

Harry broke on the word ‘please’. Draco sounded so sexy, so desperate, so _unbelievably fuckable,_ that he looked into Draco’s face, cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling and smirked. He didn’t break eye contact once when he leant forwards and took Draco into his mouth. 

It was Draco’s turn to come undone now. He let out a sound that was a cross between a cry and a moan, and his legs began to shake. His chest rose and fell heavily and his breathing sped up and became noisy. Harry became aware of hands in his hair which tightened in response to the growing pressure Harry was applying. 

It was nothing like Harry had expected this to be. He always thought he would gag, or hurt Draco by catching him on his teeth, or otherwise fuck it up but he found the whole experience to be wonderful. And the fact it was him getting this reaction from Draco… well, that was almost enough to push him over the edge without even being touched.

“Gods… Harry… going to…” Draco stammered and tried to pull Harry away but Harry, stubborn Gryffindor that his was, increased the pressure and pace, and took Draco in further. With a final cry Draco made a small convulsive movement and spilled himself into Harry’s mouth, and then his legs gave way. He slid into a sitting position on the shower’s floor and pulled Harry towards him, drawing him in for a kiss. Harry felt Draco’s hand snaking round to his erection but he grabbed his wrist and pulled it away. Draco stared at him, still on a high from his climax but also confused. 

“Harry, what…” he began, but Harry put a finger onto his lips to silence him. 

“I want you. All of you,” he panted into Draco’s ear. The look of shock that crossed Draco’s face was priceless, Harry thought, but it was instantly replaced with one of such joy that it made Harry feel giddy. Wordlessly, Draco stood, took Harry by the hand and led him out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. 

Draco sat on the bed and gestured for Harry to join him. Harry blushed slightly.

“Going shy on me now, Potter?” Draco smirked, then lay down, soaking wet, hair messy, on the crisp pale blue linen. Harry gulped, both in nerves and to try and calm himself. His eyes raked over Draco’s frame appreciatively, and Harry was thrilled to see Draco was already beginning to get hard again. There were some perks to being seventeen. 

Harry knelt on the bed and walked on his knees to meet Draco, before crushing his lips onto his. He stroked Draco’s skin, cold and covered in goose pimples, both from the drying water and arousal. He nibbled on Draco’s ear. 

“You should know, Harry, I’ve not done this before either,” Draco said quietly, causing Harry to stop the nibbling abruptly. 

“I thought you said you weren’t a virgin?” Harry replied, surprised. 

“I’m not. But I’ve never let anyone do… this to me. I am a Malfoy you know. My standards are high and I’m not going to just let anyone in now, am I? I guess I was kind of saving it for the right person too.”

“If you’re not ready we can do something-”

“Just fuck me, Harry, please!”

Harry smiled and once again kissed Draco. But as far as Harry was concerned there was no ‘fucking’ involved. He was going to make love to Draco, because that is how he felt about him. And Draco had given him enough indications for Harry to be confident he felt the same way. Draco broke the kiss to reach for his wand, then performed a lubrication charm on himself. “Please,” he repeated, in the same wanton way he said it in the shower.

Harry positioned himself to the side of Draco, so he was half lying on him, and slipped his hand between Draco’s legs. He had the extreme pleasure of watching Draco’s face flood with a most beautiful pink and his eyes rolling back as Harry brushed against the prostate. 

“Do… that… again…” Draco panted, so Harry did. Repeatedly, until Draco was reduced to little more than a writing, incoherent, squidgy mass of goo. Like Quidditch, this was something that came instinctively, naturally to Harry, and he built up a rhythm. 

“More,” gasped Draco. “Need you, Harry. Now.”

Harry was more than ready, achingly so. There was no doubt in his mind that this was what he wanted, and it was a love, not lust, filled decision. He positioned himself in front of Draco and gently pushed in. Both boys let out a simultaneous gasp. 

Harry had, of course, wondered how this would feel. Would it feel _that_ different to wanking, or rubbing against each other? Harry had his answer. Oh yes, it felt incredibly different. It was tight, and wet, and hot, and _oh my god_. Harry had to fight with himself not to lose control on the spot. 

“Are you okay?” he asked Draco breathlessly. Draco nodded, and began to thrust his hips up to Harry. Harry got the message. He pulled back as gently as he could and as far as he dared before pushing back in. He buried his head in Draco’s neck as his fingers threaded with his and built up a rhythm. Sensations were building very quickly and the noises of pure pleasure Draco was making were getting him close to the edge already but Harry didn’t care. He was dripping with sweat and becoming breathless and feeling more incredible than he ever had in his entire life. He lent forwards to kiss Draco passionately.

He brushed over Draco’s prostate and that, combined with the stimulation his belly was giving Draco’s groin brought him to orgasm for the second time that evening, and the blond moaned into Harry’s mouth as came. Harry managed one, two, three more deep thrusts before he, too was coming. He had heard the expression ‘seeing stars’ before but until that moment had believed it to be a metaphor. Now he realised it was, in fact, a literal expression. He collapsed on top of Draco, and stared into his eyes. His own emotions were reflected straight back at him in pools of warm, molten silver. He thought his heart may burst from pure joy at that moment. 

 

****

“Paris is a beautiful city.”

“I should take you to see the Transvestite prostitutes near Montmartre. They confused Father last time we were here.”

“Why spoil the moment?”

“Sorry.”

Harry and Draco were on the balcony of their hotel, both naked and wrapped in a duvet, doing a good job of polishing off a rather overpriced bottle of Champagne from the minibar in their room. The view was wonderful; they weren’t far from the Seine and the Eiffel Tower could easily be seen. Harry reached out for Draco’s champagne glass and set it aside on the patio table. He turned so he was face to face with the other boy.

“Draco, I meant what I said. When we got together I mean. I said you would have to be patient with me and wait until I could commit body and soul to you before we took things further. That, um, that didn’t change. Draco, I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

He heard the other boy’s breath hitch, before Draco’s hand came up to stroke Harry’s face, a lopsided smirk on his mouth. 

“Oversentimental, soppy bloody Gryffindor,” he replied in a falsely leering tone, but Harry could see Draco’s eyes betraying his mouth as they held his true emotion to what his words meant and simply smirked back. “One shag and he falls head over heels.”

He leant forwards and kissed Harry so hard Harry was certain his lips were going to be bruised. It was only then that Harry noticed moisture on his cheeks and it was coming from Draco. He broke the kiss and saw Draco’s eyes were shimmering. 

“I love you too. Wanker.”

“Prat.”

“Scarhead.”

“Ferret Face.”

“Potty.”

“Sexy beast.”

“You win,” said Draco with a chuckle, and wrapped his arms once more tightly around Harry, as they stared out once more at Paris bathed in moonlight.


	9. Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus

Harry was dreaming. 

He was standing on the perfectly mown front lawn of Privet Drive, underneath a large sign in Gryffindor colours but with the serpent emblem of Slytherin printed at either end, whilst in large letters lit up with a thousand lights were the words, ‘free French Fries Here!’ Vernon Dursley was trying to object, but given Harry had magically locked him in the car he couldn’t. Petunia Dursley was wearing a French maid’s outfit and was serving the customers whilst Dudley was attempting to steal handfuls of the fries. Every time he came close Harry was catching his hand with a Stinging Hex, causing Dudley to squeal like a pig. Finally someone who looked like Lucius Malfoy turned up from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the back of a Hungarian Horntail, which sent a huge blast of fire at his fries stall, incinerating it instantly, then landed in the middle of Privet Drive. He began yelling at Harry about the Statute of Secrecy in what sounded like a French accent, and Harry was yelling back that flying a dragon and landing it in the middle of a Muggle suburb in front of a huge group of Muggles including Prince Charles was much more of a breach of it than performing a subtle Hex on someone who has known he was a wizard for six years, when all of a sudden the Horntail started walking backwards, making a beeping noise that Muggle vehicles often make when reversing. It was a loud, obnoxious beep and it was beginning to irritate Harry. 

Suddenly the dream disappeared and Harry awoke, and as his consciousness returned he became aware that the bleeping was coming from the hotel alarm clock he had set the previous day. With a groan he reached over blindly, swatting buttons at random until the noise ceased, before turning over and burying himself in Draco’s bare back, wrapping his arm around his waist. 

“Morning,” he said sleepily, and received nothing more than a grunt from the blond. 

“Draco,” he tried again, kissing his neck this time. “Come on, we’ve got to get up. Flight is at eleven. It’s eight already.”

“Not getting up. ‘M too comfy,” was the half-awake reply, as Draco rolled over onto his stomach, taking the duvet with him and stretching his arms over his head. Harry rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the large portion of Draco’s skin this move revealed. 

“Draco, come on. We really need to get up.” No response. “Draco!” Still nothing, expect the faintest of small grumbles. “Last chance, Draco, I’m warning you!”

“Fuck off, Potter,” was the reply. Harry smirked. He reached over to the nightstand, put on his glasses and retrieved his wand. He pointed it devilishly at Draco.

“I did warn you,” he replied evenly. “ _Rictusempra!_ ” 

The resulting squeal made Harry bust out laughing, and Draco doubled up in a defensiveposition hugging his knees to his chest, his body jerking and convulsing from the strength of Harry’s spell. 

“Get… the fuck… off me!” he screeched, making a grab for Harry’s wand but missing and fell back onto the bed, laughing, and tears rolling from his eyes. 

“You promise to get up?” Harry asked, with mock authority. 

“Yes! I promise! Please, Harry, take it off!”

“Okay then. _Finite Incantatem,_ ” Harry said, laughing, and the tickling ceased as abruptly as it had begun.Draco’s head snapped up and his gaze met Harry’s, grey eyes locked on green. He said nothing; instead he shuffled closer to Harry and took his mouth in a kiss which Harry eagerly reciprocated. The pair fell back onto the bed. 

At that point Harry was reminded sharply that he was dating a Slytherin. He felt his wand yanked out of his hand and Draco pinned his arms above his head. 

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Draco said in a dangerously low voice.“Did you never learn the Hogwarts school motto? Never tickle a sleeping dragon. You. Will. Pay. _Incarcerous!”_

Ropes shot out of the end of Harry’s wand, binding his wrists to the metal headboard behind him. His eyes widened. 

“Draco, what…” he began, then swallowed hard when he caught sight of Draco’s face. He genuinely couldn’t read it. 

Draco straddled his legs then sat back onto Harry’s knees. 

“I’m going to get even with you, Harry. I’m going to make you fall apart. It’s your turn to scream.” And abruptly, unexpectedly but oh so wonderfully, he bent downwards and took Harry into his mouth.

****

Snape heard the shriek come from the adjacent room and drew his wand in an instant. He was halfway to the door when a pale-looking Remus caught his arm. 

“Don’t,” he said weakly. “Trust me. You do not want to see what those two are doing in there right now.” 

Snape stared at Remus, before his eyes bulged and he looked like he was going to be sick as the truth dawned on him.

“Potter is not being attacked,” he said through gritted teeth as he put a hand over his eyes. Remus shook his head.

“Potter is… and with Draco…I’m listening to him have… Oh, Salazar. Could they not at least have put up a Silencing Charm?”

“They had,” said Remus. “I heard Harry cast one the night we arrived. But I can hear through them anyway a few days before and after the full moon which Harry obviously forgot. Draco wouldn’t get out of bed, Harry hit him with a Tickling Charm, and then when he cast _Finite_ to end it he must have inadvertently removed the Silencing wards.” 

“Then why didn’t you restore it?” Snape all but yelped, and quickly cast a Silencing Charm of his own, blocking out the sound of another huge wail that had seeped through the party wall. 

“Because until you reacted, I didn’t know theirs was broken, and there was no point me putting one up as I can hear through the bloody thing,” Remus replied. 

“It’s just… Potter, and Malfoy, I don’t think even Trelawney could have predicted this.”

“Ah, I don’t know.” Remus’ face had a wry smile. “Love and hate are two sides of the same coin you know. Their relationship has always been fiery and passionate. It’s just the coin has landed love side up now.”

****

“Harry, could you sit next to me please? I’d like to talk to you.” Harry gave Remus a curious gaze, gave Draco an apologetic smile, and took his seat on the aeroplane next to Lupin, leaving a scowling Draco next to Snape.

The plane took off, and once it was safely in the air Remus cast a Silencing Charm around them both. 

“Harry, I’d like you to be honest with me please, and remember that, no matter what, I am always on your side. Harry, are you gay?”

Harry flushed, and spluttered on his own saliva, and suddenly a small spot on Remus’ neck was insanely interesting and demanding of his attention. After a minute’s pause he shut his eyes and nodded his head. He reluctantly opened his eyes again and looked into Remus’, expecting to see disappointment but was surprised and pleased to find Remus smiling at him. Relief flooded through him, replaced immediately by a worrying thought.

“Um, Remus, what… what um, made you think that, anyway?” Harry stammered, part of him too scared to hear the answer. Remus’ smile became a chuckle. 

“Well, Severus told me the night we arrived in Paris of his suspicions about you and Draco from the way you two had been acting around each other for the past month-” Harry turned a very deep magenta- “and then, er, I think you forgot about the fact I can hear through Silencing Charms close to the full moon.”

Harry buried his face in his hands. “Oh Merlin, oh Merlin,” he repeated over and over. “You _heard_ us?” 

“Afraid so, Harry. This morning. And then, well, I heard you cast a _Finite_ , which destroyed your wards, and then Severus heard-”

But that was as far as he got before Harry groaned loudly. Despite the privacy ward Remus had given the pair, Severus was watching Harry with his lip curled in a mix of triumph as Harry’s discomfort and nausea as to the memory of why he was discomforted in the first place. Draco wore an expression of concern and horror, decidedly pretending to read the in-flight magazine very carefully, a dark pink tinge to his cheeks, too. 

“Snape heard me getting… oh bloody hell,” Harry said. At that moment if Voldemort boarded the plane and offered to Avada Kedavra him Harry would seriously have considered taking him up on it. He had never felt so embarrassed. Until, that is, another thought entered his mind. 

“Remus, please, please tell me you didn’t hear us last night?!”

Remus looked startled. 

“Actually, Harry, I went to bed very early last night so no.” He gave Harry a gentle smile. “Should I be glad?” Harry nodded his head the best he could whilst it was folded in his arms. 

“Draco and I… slept together for the first time last night,” he replied. This was the single most surreal moment of his life- sitting on a Muggle aeroplane with his former teacher and his parents’ best friend, taking about the fact he had gay sex for the first time with the person who was his enemy four months ago. Maybe Harry could laugh about this one day. Maybe. 

“I see,” said Remus, his tone even, his lip twitching. “Harry, this is completely your business. I don’t mean to pry in your personal relationships, and you’re legally an adult now. I just wanted you to know I knew, and that Severus knew, and that you didn’t have to hide who you are from me. I’m immensely proud of you, always have been and always will be. I know I’m not James, or even Sirius, and I cannot fulfil the role they both had in your life but… Harry, I love you and regard you as a son. My job is to see you happy, and to be there if you need to talk. There is nothing you can’t come to me with, okay?” 

Harry stared, open-mouthed, before pulling Remus into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered in his ear. 

“So, is it serious? Between you and Draco?”

“I think so. I mean, yes it is.” Harry couldn’t keep the grin, or the soppy, dreamy expression off his face, despite the embarrassment. “We each said ‘I love you’ for the first time last night. I really am, Remus, I’m really in love with him. It feels a million times different from Ginny, and not even in the same universe as Cho.”

“I was going to ask you about Ginny,” Remus said. “You seemed so keen on her.”

“I thought I was. I do love her. But I knew as soon as we got together it wasn’t what I thought it was going to be like. What I was feeling was huge protectiveness, probably the same that Ron feels for her. It was like kissing my sister, it felt all wrong. And then she wanted to go further, and I just- couldn’t. I already suspected I preferred blokes but that really did confirm it. Girls just don’t do it for me.” He gave a small laugh. “You know, after my first kiss with Cho, Ron and Hermione asked me how it was. All I could say was, ‘wet’. Not even ‘nice’. My first kiss with Draco was…” He blushed again and refused to finish the sentence, but Remus seemed to have cottoned on as he laughed. 

Just then the steward came round with their lunch (Draco and Snape each pulling their tuna sandwich apart and inspecting it as if looking for broken glass buried inside) and there was a few minutes’ silence between them whilst they tucked into their food. When they were done, Harry continued the conversation from where it left off. It seemed as though the floodgates had been opened and he wanted to get it all in the open, now he’d started. 

“I’ve always been really crap at relationships. Not noticing girls fancying me- but according to Hermione loads used to chat me up and I never realised- and when I did have a girlfriend- Cho and Ginny- I was awkward, and bumpy and to be honest a crap boyfriend. And now-” Remus fought a laugh back as the dreamy, frankly love-struck expression crossed Harry’s features once more- “Now, I’m not crap. It’s instinctive, and fun, and I’m not a bumbling idiot and it just feels… so _right_. This is who I am.”

“Thank you for being so candid with me, Harry,” Remus replied. “I do understand, you know. Probably better than you think. I’m going to tell you something now that is probably going to shock you, okay? But it’s only fair you should know. Harry, Sirius and I were a couple at Hogwarts. In fact, we were from the end of our own sixth year until he went to Azkaban. And, er, after he escaped we got back together. We were going to tell you, and then…” Remus trailed off and looked out of the plane’s window. His bottom lip began to tremble and he bit it to control it. After a few minutes he turned back to a very still Harry. “I loved him very much,” he said hoarsely. Harry gripped his shoulder tightly, remembering the night he rescued Draco from Malfoy Manor and wondering why Remus’ Patronus looked so much like Sirius’ animagus form. Now he had his answer. There was something confusing him, however. 

“So, you… you’re… but Tonks!” he said. Remus gave a watery chuckle. 

“I’m not gay, Harry. Sirius was though. And, yes, your parents did know about us before you ask and they didn’t even bat an eyelid. For me, it’s always been about the person, not their biological sex or gender, which attracts me. Someone’s smile, the colour of their eyes, whether they can make me laugh. I believe ‘pansexual’ is the term that best describes it. Sirius could always make me laugh. Tonks is similar to Sirius in that way.”

After that Remus removed the Silencing Charm and the remaining forty minutes of the short flight was spent in comfortable quiet. Harry felt more relaxed than he had in weeks, despite the painful conversation of the last half an hour and the shock revelation that his godfather had also been gay, and had been in a relationship with Remus. He hadn’t realised how much he was worrying about people knowing he preferred blokes, and was romantically involved with a former Death Eater to boot. Remus had given him his full support and it meant more to Harry than he realised it would. Maybe he’d tell Ron and Hermione when he saw them next week… then again, he wasn’t ready to be murdered by Ron just yet. 

****

_22nd September 1997_

_Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_How are you both? It’s Hogsmeade next weekend isn’t it? Can you meet me on Saturday at midday at the place we found Snuffles back in third year? I have something to show you both that I think you’ll like. I can’t say anything more in a letter in case it’s intercepted. And maybe we could celebrate Hermione’s birthday afterwards?_

_Do you like the new owl? Remus got it for me yesterday. I didn’t know what to call him but I thought Godric was quite good. Draco and Snape hated the name which made me more determined to use it._

_Let me know about this weekend!_

_~ H_

Harry gave the letter to Godric and watched him soar into the air, envious of his carefree freedom and sighed. He missed flying almost as much as he missed Hogwarts itself. 

“Can we please practise the charm now?” He asked Snape. 

Since their return from Paris, Harry had put off destroying the diadem. He wasn’t sure why, but if it was possible he really wanted Ron and Hermione present for the destruction of this one. For the last six years they had been such a major part of his life and the trio were as thick as thieves. It felt as if they were slipping away and it saddened him. He wanted his best friends back. 

With the memory of the events following the stabbing of the locket fresh in his mind, he had asked Snape to make sure there were no nasty lurking curses on it. Both men were sat at the kitchen table, the diadem in the middle. Snape had tried every charm he could think of and was satisfied that the diadem held no further protection to prevent its destruction, but had still insisted Harry learn the spell which Snape had used to save his life.

“Harry, as discussed, I am most unhappy about your decision to destroy this away from Grimmauld Place. I am as happy about this decision as Draco is.” He was referring to the incident when Harry told him that he was going to destroy it with Ron and Hermione, and Draco had hit the roof, ranting and shouting and threatening, eventually resulting to sulking when he realised Harry wasn’t going to give in. “But you are most insistent, foolish child, therefore I can at least try and protect you. Whilst I think Mr Weasley will be as inept at casting this as he is at his other magic, Miss Granger will, I am confident, perform this with success should the need arise, although if I truly believed the diadem carried a curse you would not be attending this little rendezvous alone. This is just to make certain. The counter jinx for that curse is ‘ _Attero Atrum_ ’. Literally translated it means, ‘destroy dark’. The wrist movement is three anti-clockwise circles, followed by a horizontal strike through, left to right. Successful casting should result in a bright white light which counters and destroys the Dark. 

Harry raised his wand. _“Attero Atrum!”_ he cried, and was delighted when the white light shot out of his wand. He grinned. 

“I can do it. Now I best go and see if Draco has decided to stop acting like a sullen child.”

****

The first indication that Hermione and Ron had arrived at the Shrieking Shack the following Saturday was when a mop of bushy brown hair attacked him from the side and he was suddenly confronted with an armful of Hermione. Behind her stood Ron, who was smiling at his best friend.

“Harry! Oh, we’ve missed you! How have you been? What did you want to show us? You’ve not found… have you?” Hermione all but shouted when she pulled away from Harry.

“Let him speak, for Merlin’s sake,” said Ron, laughing, as Harry beamed at the pair. 

“C’mon, get in first then we’ll talk,” he said, and the trio entered the shack. 

As soon as they were in Hermione cast strong privacy wards, and Harry reached into his moleskin pouch, pulling out the Basilisk fang and the Diadem. Ron and Hermione both gasped in shock and delight, asking him excitedly how he got it and where. Harry relayed the story of his trip to Paris to them, obviously missing out the parts where he had lost his virginity before confessing his love to Draco, and then they were overheard by both Remus and Snape the following morning. He did, however, make sure neither Ron nor Hermione were left in any doubt just how important Draco’s role had been in retrieving the Diadem by making it crystal clear it would never have been found without him. They conceded, Ron more reluctantly than Hermione, that Harry was right to trust him with the Horcrux information.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t put any of this in a letter but if the letter went astray and ended up in the hands of a Death Eater we would be in deep shit. But I wasn’t deliberately trying to keep you in the dark- I missed you guys,” Harry continued. “And whatever I’ve been involved with in the past, well, you two have always been with me. The locket was destroyed without you, but it felt wrong, you not there, and I kind of felt you should be here for this one.” They both beamed at him. Harry smiled back, before looking serious. “But before we do this, you should know what happened after I stabbed the locket. I opened it and then whatever was inside tried to kill me-” he ignored Ron’s gasp and Hermione’s attempt to interrupt “-and it very nearly succeeded. Snape just managed to break the curse in time. The only way he’d agree to let me destroy it away from him was if he cast every charm he knew at it for traces of Dark Magic. He can’t find any, but wants me to teach you the counter jinx to what tried to kill me before, just in case.”

They spent the next twenty minutes practising until both Ron and Hermione could perform the spell flawlessly. Harry made a mental note, with some satisfaction, to inform Snape that Ron grasped faster than Hermione. 

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, and was surprised to hear nerves in his voice. Ron and Hermione nodded, both looking pale. He grasped the fang tightly in his right hand and swung it down as violently as he could into the middle of the Diadem, piercing it. 

For perhaps twenty seconds nothing happened and Harry began to panic it hadn’t worked. Then suddenly a viscous, putrid-smelling liquid seeped out of the puncture wound. It resembled blood, except the liquid was almost jet-black. 

“Don’t touch it!” Hermione called, but Harry had never needed her advice less. Instead he, Ron and Hermione all pointed their wands and cast Tergeo Charms at it, removing it from the floor. Finally the Diadem shuddered violently, then, with a loud crack, snapped in two. It turned black and Harry thought it resembled charred remains. 

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” he said dryly. “No screaming, no spell trying to choke me to death. No me passing out whilst three wizards panic and desperately try and save my life. And better yet that cun-”

“HARRY!”

“Sorry, Hermione. That bastard has one less of these things.” He broke out in a huge smile which was immediately matched by those on Ron and Hermione’s face. “He has one less! We’re another step closer! This is brilliant!” And he spun Hermione round in a circle and kissed her on the cheek.

“Oi!” said Ron in mock anger. “That’s, er, that’s my girlfriend you’re kissing!” He could barely keep the smug grin off his face when he said this. Harry looked surprised for only a moment before throwing his arms around the pair. 

“About bloody time! Congratulations, you guys,” he said sincerely, as they gave each other a lop-sided smirk and held hands, cheeks slightly tinged with pink. “Hermione, I still owe you a birthday present. Let’s get out of here and head into Muggle London or somewhere. Did you tell McGonagall you were meeting with me today rather than going into Hogsmeade?” Ron and Hermione both confirmed that they had. “Hang on, I’d better let Snape and Draco know the Diadem has gone and I’m safe. _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

The stag erupted out of his wand, and Harry relayed a message to it, informing Snape and Draco that he was safe and the Diadem was destroyed but he was going to spend the day with his friends so not to expect him home for a few hours. He quickly retrieved the parts of the Diadem, and put them, and the fang back into his moleskin pouch then Hermione side-along Apparated him and Ron, not to Muggle London but to a tiny Cornish fishing port called Mevagissey that Hermione had fallen in love with one summer, where Harry enjoyed a wonderful afternoon laughing and joking and devouring ice cream in the warm autumn sun before Apparating home back to his other life.

****

He should have known his happiness would be short-lived. As soon as he returned home a white-faced Draco threw himself into Harry’s arms whilst an equally white-faced Snape stood in the drawing room doorway. 

“Thank Merlin. Oh fuck, Harry, we were so worried!” Draco said breathlessly, refusing to loosen his grip of Harry. Harry was confused for all of five seconds before he had the _Daily Prophet_ thrust under his nose. He began to read the headline, and felt his lunch threaten to come back up and his blood run icy cold. 

**_BREAKING NEWS SPECIAL EDITION! Dementors Attack Hogwarts students in Hogsmeade! Seven Kissed, three missing._ **

_Joy turned to tragedy this afternoon when Hogwarts students, enjoying their first Hogsmeade weekend of the new school year, were viscously attacked by a group of Dementors, assumedly sent by You-Know-Who. Seven children were Kissed, whilst the whereabouts of three more are currently unknown. It is not known why the Dementors were present but there is already speculation they were searching for Harry Potter, who has not been seen in the Wizarding world since June. The seven victims have all been formally identified and it is confirmed they were all third and fourth year students. Families of the missing three, also fourth years, have been informed._

_The Kissed toll would have been a lot higher, say eye witnesses, had it not been for the outstanding skill and bravery shown by three students. Seventh year Neville Longbottom, and sixth years Ginevra Weasley and Luna Lovegood all successfully cast corporeal Patronuses and halted the Dementors’ advances, allowing many more to get to safety._

_Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva McGonagall has cancelled all future Hogsmeade visits and other off-school activities with immediate effect._

_Please see inside your copy of ‘How to identify a Dementor attack and how to protect your family’, free with this publication, for further information and Ministry advice._

_More details will follow as we get them._

Harry finished reading. Despite the sickening details the article contained he couldn’t help feeling overwhelming pride in his three friends. This was immediately followed by the heavy guilt he felt at the fact that at least seven, and probably ten, children had effectively lost their life because of him this afternoon, whilst he was out having fun. He swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat and stared at the floor.

Draco seemed to know what he was thinking. He took Harry’s chin in his hand and tilted it upwards until their eyes were locked. “Harry, this wasn’t your fault, okay? They did not get Kissed because of you. They were Kissed because of fucking Voldemort. Don’t let him-”

But the rest of Draco’s words were suddenly drowned out as a huge surge of fury that didn’t belong to him shot through Harry’s body, and his scar felt like it would burst from pain. His hands automatically shot up to grab his forehead. His vision blurred and the vision of Draco slowly disappeared to be replaced by another. He could vaguely see Voldemort taking his anger for yet another failed mission to capture him out on a couple of Death Eaters and heard the cold, cruel laughter emanating from his own mouth. Harry fell to his knees and retched with the pain. He was vaguely aware of Draco calling his name, joined a minute later by Snape, but all he could focus on was the overwhelming, consuming, agony. 

It stopped as abruptly as it begun. He remained on all fours, trying to force back the nausea whilst panting heavily. “Fuck,” was all he managed to get out. Draco and Snape both helped him to his feet and into the living room. 

“I didn’t see anything important,” he said after a few minutes, when the pain had fully receded and he had his breath back. “Just Voldemort pissed. He wasn’t happy they didn’t get me again.” He put his head in his hands and absently rubbed his scar which was still tingling. “I really need to start Occlumency again and stop this. But, Severus, we’re getting on so well that…” He let his voice trail away, but luckily Snape had understood.

“Harry, I agree. My teaching you was an unmitigated disaster and I have no wish to repeat such an experience and fear we would fail again should we attempt it. But I concur you need to learn- I shall have to teach you again if needs be.”

“I’ll teach him,” said Draco quickly. “Bellatrix taught me Occlumency last year, I’m sure I can do it.”

Harry smiled weakly at him. “Thanks. And I’ll teach you how to produce a Patronus if you like in return.”

“You’re the one who taught Longbottom and the Weaselette, aren’t you?” said Draco, a mixture of shock, pride and awe in his voice as realisation set in. Harry laughed. 

“Yep. And Luna. Actually I taught the whole DA to produce one back in fifth year. You remember, the group you and Umbridge tried to destroy?” -Draco flushed at the memory- “well, it saved lives today.”

“I think that is a wise idea, on both your parts,” said Snape. The corners of his mouth turned up. “Besides, it shall give you a reason to spend hours alone in your bedroom with the door closed that does not require the use of a Silencing Charm.”

And he swept, bat-like, from the room. Draco turned to Harry, mouth slightly open, the earlier fading blush on his face fully restored.

“Did- did he just make a joke?” he asked. Harry nodded slowly. 

“I think he did. Flobberworms really do fly.”

****

“Visualise a chest, or a school trunk or something,” Draco instructed. “Something with a lock and key. Put your thoughts inside it and lock it. Do not let me get the key.”

Harry pictured his Hogwarts trunk and mentally pictured himself packing thoughts into it. Then he ‘locked’ the trunk. 

“Okay, ready,” he told Draco. Draco raised his wand.

“ _Legilimens!_ ”

Harry was seven. He had been locked in the cupboard under the stairs because he had told his aunt and uncle he thought the magician he overheard a boy in his class telling his friends about that he’d seen sounded brilliant and he’d love to be able to perform the tricks. Harry was shivering, dressed in only a thin cotton t shirt despite it being February. He impatiently wiped tears away from his eyes.

Harry was twelve. He had missed the Hogwarts Express and he and Ron were flying in a Ford Anglia, eating toffees and feeling very hot and thirsty.

Harry was eleven. He was standing in front of a large mirror, completely alone, but the reflection showed him standing with his parents. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he stared into his mother’s eyes, so like his own. He reached out to the glass, tracing the outline of her own hand, whilst a single word, filled with heartbreak, longing and grief came from his eleven-year old mouth. “Mum.”

Harry was nine. He limped home from school, knee bleeding and trousers ripped, where Dudley’s friends had pushed him over. He opened the door of Privet Drive and received a scolding from Petunia about wasting clothing. No one fixed his knee or gave him any sympathy.

Harry was fifteen. He was in the room of requirement, under mistletoe. Cho was crying. Harry leant in and kissed her.

Harry was ten. He had just accidentally released a snake on his cousin at the zoo. Vernon dragged Harry into the hallway by the collar of his t shirt and threw him into the cupboard. Harry covered his ears as Vernon began yelling at him… _ENOUGH._

Harry was not going to let Draco continue to see this. With a huge effort he mentally wrenched what he visualised as Draco stealing his key out of his hands and slammed the lid back down on his trunk, locking it firmly. He felt Draco pull out of his mind.

Draco looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Harry, your Muggle relatives…” he began, but Harry simply shook his head to show he wasn’t going to talk about it. Draco reached out and took Harry’s hand in his.

“Were they ever nice to you? Looked after you? Protected you from harm? Loved you?”

Harry was still for a minute, pale- faced. Then he very slowly shook his head once more. Draco’s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips together. He put an arm around Harry and drew him close.

“If I ever see those fucking Muggles I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Harry interjected heatedly, wriggling free of Draco’s embrace. “Look, I sort of made up with my cousin back in July, I don’t care what Vernon thinks of me, and Petunia seemed to do as she was told. She was pathetic. But it’s over, I never have to see them again. Did I have a shit childhood? Yes. I hated it, Draco. Sometimes I would cry myself to sleep just wishing someone would come and take me away, or pray I wouldn’t even wake up again. But I got my miracle. I got this world and friends and people who care about me and now I have you too and I’m not going to spend my life brooding over a past I can’t change, and nor are you, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay, you lived with them for ten years and they treated you like shit.”

“JUST DROP IT, DRACO!”

They sat in silence for many minutes, then Harry stood abruptly. 

“Look, there’s no way I‘m going to be able to teach you a Patronus in this mood. We’ll try after dinner.” He crossed the room and exited, practically slamming the door behind him.

He stood the other side of the door and rested his head against the smooth mahogany, not understanding his own reaction.

****

“Can we talk about this calmly?” Draco asked after dinner, once he and Harry were back in Harry’s room.

Harry gave Draco a weak smile and leant in to kiss him chastely on the mouth. 

“I really don’t know why I blew up at you like that. I’m sorry. I’ve just never really talked about them before, not even with Ron and Hermione and the Legilimency brought up some memories that I’d rather not remember.”

“Did… did they ever _hurt_ you?”

“No. I promise, Draco, it was never physical. Well, Dudley beat me up but never the adults. But it was mental pain. I was neglected, sometimes starved, and knew I was unloved, unwanted and…” his words died in his throat and he had to swallow a lump that was forming. “Draco, I was abused by them, wasn’t I? They are child abusers. I am so sorry I yelled at you when all you were doing was being on my side. It was the first time I’d realised it properly for some reason and I got completely defensive. I had such a shitty life with them. I felt completely worthless. I was worthless.” A couple of tears did fall then, but Harry wiped them away quickly before Draco could notice them. “Fucking Voldemort. Fuck him and fuck the Dursleys. If it wasn’t for him I would never have had to live with them, and I’d have had my parents, maybe even siblings, and Sirius would never have gone to Azkaban and I wouldn’t have grown up thinking I was a freak.”

Draco was deathly pale, and he was holding Harry’s hand in a vice-like grip. Half of him wanted to murder these fucking Dursleys on the spot, and the other half was feeling sheer guilt for all the years he had tormented Harry, making jokes and quips about the fact he had no parents. He had taken delight in Harry’s misery then. Draco realised he had to fight back some tears of his own at the memory of his own behaviour.

“Can I tell you something else?” Harry’s voice was quiet. “Why I needed to learn to produce a Patronus so early. Do you remember how I reacted to the Dementors? How I used to faint? Well every time they got close I could hear Voldemort murdering my mum.” Harry winced as the pressure of Draco’s hand on his increased and became painful as he heard Draco gasp, and Draco shut his eyes tight. 

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. “You were hearing… and all I could do was laugh, and do stupid impressions of you fainting, and… oh Circe, Harry, I’m so sorry.” Harry realised he looked close to tears. He gave Draco a weak smile. 

“Not the best of moods to try and produce a Patronus in, given they need a happy memory,” he said with a tiny chuckle. “C’mon, let’s snap out of this. Want to meet my Patronus?”

He forced the unpleasant memories out of his mind and pictured himself and Draco cuddled up together naked and sharing Champagne on the balcony in Paris just after they had made love. “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

The silvery stag instantly appeared from his wand. Draco’s eyes widened and he stared at it, too gobsmacked to say anything for a minute. 

“He’s stunning,” he said eventually, as the stag cantered round and made to nuzzle Draco’s neck. 

“Thought you’d seen him before?” Harry asked. Draco shook his head.

“First time I saw it back in third year it charged me down and I was too busy trying to get away to see its form, then yesterday when you sent it with a message I was in the loo when it arrived and Snape told me about it. Harry, this is beautiful.”

“It’s my dad,” Harry replied. “Well, not him literally, but it represents his animagus form. A Patronus takes the form of what we believe will protect us most from harm. Mine chose him. Now, you need to focus on a happy memory- the happiest you have- and say the incantation ‘Expecto Patronum’ very clearly. 

Draco inhaled deeply and raised his wand. _“Expecto Patronum!”_ he said clearly. Silvery whispers came out of his wand. Draco looked disappointed. 

“It can take a while to get the corporeal form,” Harry said. “You need to make your memory really, really happy. Come on, I want to see that ferret!”

“I am NOT going to produce a ferret,” Draco said, and raised his wand to try again. He closed his eyes, a small smile pulling at his mouth. 

An hour later and Draco was still frustratingly producing only silvery wisps. His memory altered and he smiled to himself.

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

Something huge erupted from Draco’s wand. Harry stared at it, dumbstruck whilst Draco looks like he’d just taken a Bludger to the groin. For Draco’s Patronus had taken the form of a large, male lion. 

“It takes the form of what we think protects us most,” Draco said. “I’ve just produced a bloody Gryffindor lion. Harry, my Patronus is fucking _you_.”

Harry beamed at him. “Well, I am very protective of you,” he said, as he took Draco into his arms and began to kiss him deeply. 

“You’re not mad?” Draco asked when the kiss broke. 

“Mad?! It’s brilliant!” Harry replied, the delight in his voice evident. “Only an hour ago I was telling you how I grew up feeling worthless. You have no idea what this means to me Draco. To have someone love me, to need me, to feel so much for me their Patronus _is_ me…” he paused to kiss Draco silly once more. “Thank you.”

“Does… does what we think about whilst saying the incantation affect its form?” Draco asked, and Harry didn’t miss the tinge of pink that formed on Draco’s cheeks. His hand snaked down and grabbed Draco’s buttocks, pulling him close to his own body. 

“And just what were you thinking about?” he whispered into Draco’s ear. “Go on, tell me.”

“Fuck telling. I’m going to show you,” Draco replied, before throwing Harry down roughly on the bed as they both frantically removed their clothes, where Draco then proceeded to show Harry exactly what his memory was about.

_If Voldemort sent his entire army of Dementors at me now, I’d take them all down with the world’s strongest Patronus,_ Harry thought sleepily later. _And with Draco by my side there’s no way he’s going to be able to stop me._


	10. The Unintentional Horcrux

---  
  
September passed and October arrived, bringing with it cooler air which caused the inhabitants to shiver and need to cast Warming Charms. The weather turned decidedly autumnal towards the end of the month. The square in Grimmauld Place was awash in a sea of oranges and browns as the leaves continued to fall, and Harry thought it smelt of bonfires and damp vegetation outside.Harry was thinking about Quidditch; had he been at Hogwarts this year he would be preparing for the Slytherin Versus Gryffindor match about now. He felt a pang of sadness that he was not able to play- the same pang he always felt when he thought about Quidditch, or Hogwarts, or Ron and Hermione. 

He continued to practise Occlumency with Draco, and was making steady progress. He was able to shield a specific thought from him now, and although Harry believed a stronger Occlumens such as Snape would be able to break the shield with ease, it was still major progress compared to the fiasco his lessons in his fifth year had been. 

Harry also continued to study Dark magic; the most recent spell he practised was called **Lemures Maxima which reminded Harry of a Patronus except far more terrifying. It was only effective against opponents who had tortured victims to death, as the spell called up spirits of the opponent’s victims. The spirits then formed a barrier between caster and opponent, in the same way a Patronus did between Dementor and caster, but forced their killer to feel everything their victims felt in their dying moments in an act of vengefulness. Harry thought with satisfaction that Bellatrix especially deserved to be on the receiving end of this particular spell. The most beautiful thing about this spell was it wouldn’t work on innocents; only those who had deliberately killed could suffer, and Harry found he had no moral objection to it whatsoever.**

The last week of October bought some unexpected but welcome news. A beaming Remus had visited Grimmauld Place to ask Harry a very special favour- to move Tonks in and behind the protective wards and Fidelius Charm. He and Tonks had recently discovered they were going to be parents and wanted to make sure the pregnancy went as easily and safely as it could. 

“But that’s brilliant!” Harry exclaimed, wringing Remus’ hand in congratulations. “Of course she can move in! When is the baby due?”

“She’s about six weeks’ pregnant, so the baby is due in June,” Remus grinned, and Harry thought this was the most care-free he had ever seen the older man.

Harry acquired a determined look on his face at that. “I’ll have Voldemort defeated before then,” he told Remus confidentially. “As much as I can guarantee it. I’ll do everything I can to end this before then. Your child is not going to grow up in the middle of a war.”

Harry had spent the rest of the afternoon and a good portion of the evening with a silly smile plastered on his face. The news had lifted him out of his sombre mood considerably; something as joyous as a pregnancy, and to befall two of his favourite people, was too powerful to keep him feeling sorry for himself. 

****

“Wotcher, Harry!” 

Harry gave Tonks a gentle hug as she and Remus appeared in Grimmauld Place the following day, being careful not to squeeze her stomach. She laughed. “You won’t hurt the baby you know. It’s well protected in there. Look, thanks again for letting us move in. We have wards on our house but the Fidelius offers so much more protection.”

“You know it’s my pleasure,” Harry beamed. Just then Draco appeared in the doorway, unsure of whether he was invited to this small gathering. Harry took control and held out his hand, which Draco eyed gratefully before taking. “I take it Remus told you about us?”

Tonks nodded and gave a small laugh. “So, dearest cousin, I hope your intentions with Harry are entirely honourable!”

Draco spluttered, turned scarlet, which caused both Remus and Tonks to snigger, before taking her bags up to hers and Remus’ room, muttering something about ‘passing my regards to Aunt Andromeda’.

“You don’t mind about the two of us then?” Harry asked cautiously. Tonks looked confused. 

“Should I? Because he’s another man, or because he’s a former Death Eater? In either case, no I don’t mind. If I was homophobic I’d hardly be married to a man who had a long relationship with another bloke, and from what Remus has told me, my cousin there has been an asset in helping fight You-know-Who. That makes him okay in my book.”

****

“Just relax. Your mind is most vulnerable and likely to be attacked when you’re relaxing and this is what we need to protect most,” Draco said gently.

Harry did as he was told. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the memory he was trying to shield from Draco, which happened to be the time he entered the Slytherin common room Polyjuiced, and focussed on breathing deeply. His mind was calm and he was even close to falling asleep. He felt the now- familiar presence of Draco’s mind entering his, smiling as Draco began searching for the hidden memory that Harry had secured in his mental trunk, confident he wouldn’t find it. 

Suddenly Harry heard Draco gasp and then felt him abruptly pull out of his mind. Harry snapped out of his sleepiness, opened his eyes and stared at Draco in confusion, which quickly became concern when he saw the look on his face. Draco was pale and wide-eyed and, Harry thought, he looked scared. 

“Harry, there’s something there in your mind,” Draco said quietly. “I’ve never seen it there before, but we’ve never tried this when you’re so relaxed and your mind is so open. I… I don’t think it’s part of you. But it’s definitely sentient.”

If Harry had not already been lying down he was sure his knees would have buckled under him in that moment. Something sentient, in his mind that wasn’t part of him? He could only think of one thing that sounded like, but it couldn’t possibly be, could it?

_No. Oh God, please, no._

“What is it?” Harry all but whispered, terrified of the answer, trying not to tremble.

“I think Severus should look at it,” was the only response Draco would give. Harry nodded grimly and automatically followed Draco out of the room, with a heavy feeling of detachment from his own body.

****

“Keep still and relax, Harry. Are you ready? _Legilimens!_ ”

Snape’s presence in Harry’s mind was not as pleasant as Draco’s, and far more powerful. Although this was a million times better than it had been the last time Snape had tried this with him, it was still unpleasant. Harry had locked his mind away from Snape and he could tell the elder was impressed, but it still felt like an invasion. Draco continued to stroke his hair and whisper comforts into his ear, desperate to keep Harry calm, as Snape snaked through Harry’s mind. Harry focussed on his own heartbeat, trying hard not to panic. It wasn’t working very well. _There is a piece of Voldemort in your head. You’re a Horcrux. And whilst this remains Voldemort cannot die._

Snape ended the spell and looked at Harry, his face grim. 

“Harry, I regret to inform you that Draco is right. I’ve had a fair look at the foreign body and it is indeed incredibly Dark. I am certain that there is a fragment of Voldemort’s soul in you, most likely implanted when you reflected the Killing Curse and his already fractured soul latched onto you when his body was destroyed. He is undoubtedly unaware of it, but this still leaves the huge problem we’re presented with now as to how to remove it in order to restore Voldemort to mortality.”

“I’m going to have to die,” Harry said quietly, vocalising the thought that had been at the forefront of his mind since Draco initially discovered the fragment, all the while trying to control his own shaking. He felt Draco stiffen next to him, and the pressure on the hand Draco was grasping increased. Snape gave him a look so gentle and full of regret it might not have belonged on his face at all.

“I sincerely hope it will not need to come to that, Harry. I shall do everything in my power to find a way to purge it from your mind that does not result in your death.”

Snape offered Harry a lifeline the following morning, after a restless night’s sleep for them all. He retrieved a tiny vial with a few drops of clear liquid in it from inside his robes and handed it to Harry, who examined the vial questioningly. 

“They’re phoenix tears,” Snape replied to the unspoken enquiry. “I believe they are from Dumbledore’s own phoenix. He gave me this vial two months before his death, and told me, infuriatingly, that when the time came I would know what they were for, and refused to elaborate further. Once we were in possession of the Basilisk fang I believed they were for emergency treatment if one of us was accidentally exposed to the venom. However last night I found this.”

He opened an old Potions book to a recipe for a Potion used by Healers for purging dead tumours and decayed flesh from patients. 

“Harry, if we can isolate the Horcrux in your mind and kill it then we can purge it from your body with this Potion. The addition of the phoenix tears is necessary because-”

“-because I’m going to have to kill it with Basilisk venom,” interrupted Harry. “And you hope the tears will heal me after it’s gone.”

Snape gave a tiny smile. “That is correct. Harry, you have built a small tolerance to the venom due to your exposure to it in your second year. As the Horcrux is not part of you or your bloody supply it has not inherited this tolerance. Therefore you can withstand the effects of the venom longer than the piece of soul can. We can allow the venom to destroy it, then administer the Potion to purge it and aid your revival.”

“Why can’t we just give him the phoenix tears to heal him? Why in a Purging Potion, if Voldemort’s soul will be destroyed?” Draco asked. 

“Well, apart from Harry not wanting a dead piece of the Dark Lord’s soul in his head for the rest of his life, there is the problem that this is an unprecedented situation,” Snape replied. “Using the tears alone to heal Harry, whilst keeping the Horcrux in place could also heal the part of Voldemort’s soul, as they can heal so much else that is considered beyond repair. It may not but it’s a risk we cannot afford to take as phoenix tears are so incredibly rare this is our one chance at doing this if the Horcrux was to renew itself.”

“Will this work?” Harry was heartened to realise he was feeling much more positive. There was hope. 

“As certain as I can be, which, as this is an untested, unique situation, is not a hundred per cent. But yes, Harry, I am confident this will not kill you.”

Harry felt the knot in his stomach completely unwind then, but something was still nagging him.

“Severus, why did Dumbledore give you the tears? Did- did he _know_ I was a… a Horcrux?” Even as he said it Dumbledore’s words came back to him. _You can speak Parseltongue, Harry, because Lord Voldemort can speak Parseltongue_. Dumbledore had known, and never told him. What if the fragment had never been found by Draco, or Snape was still spying for Voldemort and Harry believed him an enemy so would never have received the tears?Voldemort would never have been defeated. Dumbledore had left far too much to chance. Harry felt sick, betrayal almost physically oozing from every pore of his skin.

“I believe he did, yes, Harry.” Draco made a small noise at this and threw an arm around Harry’s shoulder. So severe was this situation that Snape didn’t even raise a disapproving eyebrow. “I can only fathom that this information was so confidential, and it was so desperately important Voldemort never discovered this, that Albus didn’t even confide in me for fear of having the information taken from my mind. But we will never know the exact reason.”

Harry realised Draco was white and not saying much. He thought he’d taken this news better than Draco had. Draco appeared to be terrified for Harry’s life.

“Thank you, Severus,” he said. “But this must be the last piece of him we destroy, apart from him himself. If I lose the Parseltongue ability we may never get the remaining Horcrux- we don’t know what protection is on it and two have relied on parseltongue so far. I have to hold on to that ability. And to see into his mind- I don’t like it but at times it’s useful and can save lives.”

Snape agreed to this. Draco still was quiet and white-faced. 

“What do you think, Draco?” Harry asked him gently. 

“I think this is all completely fucked up,” Draco replied, dropping Harry’s hand and all but storming out of the room. Harry sighed and ran a hand over his face, and turned to follow him. 

****

“So what are we going to do?” Draco asked as soon as they were back in the bedroom they were now sharing. Harry stared at him in confusion.

“What do you mean, ‘what do we do’? Snape and I have just explained what is going to happen. I’ve got to get it out of me eventually, before the final battle. I’m going to have to use the Basilisk fang on myself, then drink the Potion and hopefully purge that bastard’s soul from my body.”

“But you might die,” he said quietly, all emotion drained from his voice. 

“Not if Snape’s Potion works,” Harry replied. “And there are no guarantees it will, I know that. However Snape is confident, and he’s about the best potions brewer in the county at the moment. It’s the only choice we have.”

“It is not,” Draco retorted, the colour completely drained from his face. 

“So you want me to stay as I am, do you? With a piece of Voldemort living in my head? Affecting my emotions and controlling my thoughts at will?”

“It’s better than you dying!” Draco snapped.

“Is it really? I live, but Voldemort wins? He’ll kill the Muggles, and the Muggle-borns. He’ll come after everyone I love or care about and won’t stop until you’re all dead. You think I’d have a lovely quiet life if I just say, ‘sod this, I’m too selfish to die, everyone must suffer because of me’? Draco, I have to do this. I trust Snape, okay? I believe I’ll survive this. But if I don’t then-”

“Fuck you, Harry Potter,” Draco interjected, his retort lost and his voice breaking. He turned his head away from Harry and his shoulders shook slightly from the effort of trying to control his emotions. Harry reached out with one hand and placed it on his shoulder but Draco threw it off. 

“Look, if it’s not this then it will be something else,” Harry said, the anger clear in his voice. “I’m not a safe option, Draco. I thought you knew this, accepted the risks when we decided to be together?”

“I won’t let you do this,” Draco said quietly after a few minutes had passed. 

“You don’t have a choice,” Harry replied calmly. He knew Draco was hurting, was frightened, but he had to, _had to_ , make Draco see the bigger picture. “You knew there were no guarantees I’d survive this when we got involved with each other. And if there was any other way to defeat Voldemort then I would do it. But you know he cannot be allowed to win. You know that. I’ll do what I need to do to keep you safe.”

“It’s almost as if you don’t care about yourself, or like you half-expected something like this to happen,” Draco argued, staring at the floor. “Why is it always you? Why are you the one that has to do everything, every time? We have a ministry full of highly-qualified Aurors doing nothing yet everyone pins their hopes on a barely of-age wizard to save their sorry arses every fucking time.”

Harry saw the problem in that instant. Draco wasn’t mad with him. He was mad with the fact that, yes, it always came down to Harry, had done for years now really, and the fate of the wizarding world rested squarely on his shoulders. He felt his own eyes prickle. 

“Draco, I need you with me on this,” Harry said. “I know you’re worried. But don’t think for a second I’m not. I’m fucking terrified okay?” He cupped Draco’s chin in his hands and gently turned his face until they made eye contact. Draco’s eyes were shimmering with angry, terrified tears; he blinked and a few fell down his cheeks, leaving tracks on his pale face. Harry dropped his voice to barely a whisper and his voice shook slightly as his thumb wiped the tears from Draco’s eyes.“I don’t want to die. I love you, and the possibility of having to leave you is unthinkable. But if my dying is the only means Voldemort can be defeated then that is how it has to be. I’m not going to martyr myself unnecessarily, and I do value my life. But you know what the Horcruxes mean, Draco. Whilst they remain he cannot be defeated. I will not be selfish and remain alive whilst he maims and kills thousands of innocents and destroys our world when there is a way I can stop him. Some things _are_ worth dying for.”

“You’re not going to change your mind, are you?” Draco’s voice was resigned, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Harry shook his head sadly. 

“I can’t. I wish I could but I can’t. I am so sorry.”

“Bloody chivalrous Gryffindor idiot,” Draco replied, but one corner of his mouth turned up in a sad half-smile. Then he leant forwards and kissed Harry deeply. Harry returned the kiss with much enthusiasm, his frustration at Draco melting away as Draco licked his bottom lip in a plea for entrance. Harry sighed as he parted his lips, relishing in the sensation of Draco’s tongue mingling with his, exploring his mouth, and thrusting in and out, emulating so seductively the feel of Draco’s cock in his mouth that Harry groaned aloud. It was like every inch of him was on fire- a warmth spread through his entire body, comforting, protecting, and oh so arousing. His skin tingled head to foot and each touch from Draco sent electricity shooting through him, pooling ultimately in his groin. 

“Oh god,” he whispered into Draco’s open mouth, and crushed his lips down on the blond’s hungrily, welcoming the distraction with everything he had. Draco responded immediately, one arm snaking round Harry’s waist whilst the other threaded itself into his hair.

“I love you,” he breathed huskily between kisses, as Harry began to undo the fly on Draco’s jeans. 

Clothes finally shed, they both collapsed onto their bed, lips furiously clashing together in a battle for dominance that neither was winning. Draco began kissing Harry’s neck, finding the spot that always made him turn to jelly, and latched his mouth onto the flesh, sucking as hard as he could without marking him, whilst Harry’s breathing became erratic. 

“D-Draco,” he managed to say breathlessly. “S-silencing Ch-charm.” 

Draco quickly cast the Charm, confident they would not be overheard as the full moon was over two weeks away, and resumed his worship of Harry’s body, kissing his neck, before moving onto his chest. He took each of Harry’s nipples in turn, circling his tongue around them before biting, not hard enough to hurt, but with enough pressure to cause shocks of pleasure surging through Harry’s spine, so strong it was as if a live current was running through him. Then the kisses went lower still, Draco’s tongue lapping at his belly button, until, finally, Draco took his tongue to Harry’s erection. 

Harry arched off the bed at the initial contact, biting hard on his lip to stop himself crying out. Draco increased the pressure, using his tongue stud to press on the sensitive vein, licking from base to tip before circling his tongue around the head. Then he sank down onto Harry, taking nearly all of him into his mouth.

Harry threaded one hand tightly into Draco’s hair, holding tight as Draco’s head bobbed, but with his free hand he removed Draco’s from his thigh and guided it between his legs, to just below Draco’s mouth. Draco stopped in surprise, which caused Harry to protest loudly. 

“Harry, do you want me to…?” Draco asked, hope gleaming in his eyes, as he sank his mouth back down onto Harry. Harry nodded desperately as way of a reply. 

“Please… make love to me. Make me forget everything for a while,” he managed to gasp. The resulting moan that came from Draco’s throat vibrated round the base of his erection, bringing him threateningly close. Draco released him once more, before grabbing his wand and performing a very quick lubrication spell. He then shuffled up the bed so he was eye level with Harry, before capturing his mouth in a deep kiss. 

The initial feeling of having a foreign body inside him was unusual. Harry couldn’t say it was painful, but he also couldn’t say it felt particularly good. Draco very gently thrust his finger, before inserting another. This time Harry did feel more than a bit of discomfort, and let out a gasp that had little to do with pleasure as the burning sensation became strong. Draco seemed to realise this however, and deepened the kiss, before crooking his fingers. This change of angle made all the difference. Pain turned abruptly into exquisite pleasure as his fingers massaged Harry’s prostate, a sensation so strong and so wonderful that it caused Harry to choke back a sob. 

Draco continued to kiss deeply and with his free hand he stroked Harry’s sweat-dampened hair from his face, rubbing his own arousal against Harry’s hip. Suddenly Harry couldn’t stand another minute without having Draco inside him. Draco withdrew his fingers.

“Roll onto your side,” he told Harry. “And lift your right leg.” Harry did as he was told. Draco positioned himself behind Harry and very gently pushed in. 

It did hurt a bit but Draco was careful and Harry was well prepared. It just felt very strange. Draco supported Harry’s right thigh as he entered his lover, all the while kissing the spot on Harry’s neck that made him putty in Draco’s hands. Then he rolled Harry gently so he was almost lying on his back, his right leg draped over Draco’s right hip. The blond began with gentle thrusts, all the time expertly hitting Harry’s prostate.

Harry trembled and his breathing quickened and became noisy. He knew it would be good because of Draco’s reactions from the few times he had been inside him, but not that it would be _this_ good. The sensations were completely different to anything he’d ever had before- the pleasure wasn’t just pooled in his groin, but spread throughout his entire body. His body was covered in goose pimples that had nothing to do with the cold autumnal weather.

“Oh Harry,” Draco said throatily into his ear, and his thrusts became harder, deeper, more frantic as he approached orgasm. His hand stopped stroking Harry’s inner thigh and firmly grasped his erection, timing his strokes with his thrusts and running his thumb over the sensitive head and slickening the shaft in natural lubrication, causing Harry to let out a sound that would have sounded like a squeak, had he or Draco been inclined to analyse it, which they both certainly were not. “H-Harry.”

The fire in Harry’s stomach was almost unbearable now, as was the stimulation to both his erection and prostate. It was too much, he was going to come, and very soon. His breathing became erratic, his legs shook, as wave after wave crashed over him. Draco’s breathing was just as erratic and he was groaning. Harry turned his head and captured Draco’s mouth with his, but barely had a chance to deepen the kiss when his release was upon him- with a loud wail into Draco’s mouth he came violently, nails digging into the back of Draco’s neck, and was still shuddering seconds later when Draco found his own release. 

Draco carefully withdrew from Harry and took him into his arms, drenched in sweat and panting heavily. 

“You were magnificent,” he said breathlessly, kissing the top of Harry’s head. 

“Not bad yourself,” Harry replied playfully, before sleep, an overwhelming, uncontrollable force, overtook him. He was vaguely aware of Draco casting a Cleaning Charm on him and whispering, “I’ll always be on your side you know,” into his ear before sleep snatched him away.

****

_28 th October 1997_

_Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_Remember the letter I sent to you in September? About meeting me where we met Snuffles? Well, I need you to meet me at the place the Marauders used to get in to there, in two nights’ time just after curfew. I’m coming to see you and that is how I’m getting in. I really need to talk to you. And, to be honest, I could do with a hug from you guys._

_Let me know if you can make it by return note with Godric. And please don’t worry._

_Harry._

Draco leant over and kissed his favourite spot on Harry’s neck as they watched Godric flying out into the early evening October dusk. Harry closed his eyes and sighed at the contact. “People will think you’re a vampire you know, the amount of time you spend sucking my neck.”

“Let them think what they like,” Draco murmured, and went back to attacking the spot with his lips, eliciting a sigh from Harry.

“I’m coming with you to meet them,” Draco said finally. He put his finger on Harry’s lips just as he was about to protest. “No, Harry. You need me there. Weasel and Granger can say and think what they like. Bugger them. This isn’t fair on you. Stop trying to live separate lives.”

“You want me to tell them? About us?” Harry asked. 

“That’s up to you,” Draco replied. “But I don’t want you to have to live two lives. I’m never exactly going to sign up to the Ron Weasley fan club or wear a flashing ‘I love Muggle-borns’ badge but they’re important to you. I don’t give a flying fuck what they think of me, I just need you to be happy, and you’re not going to be if the three people you care most about in the world can’t even cope with being in the same room without Hexing each other for five minutes.”

Hermione’s rushed reply arrived with Godric later that evening. 

_Harry,_

_Of course we’ll meet you. Your note was disconcerting, Harry. Are you okay? Obviously we’re going to worry about you! Are you hurt? Unwell? Ron tells me to tell you that Gryffindor demolished Slytherin 450-80 on Saturday. He thinks it will cheer you up._

_Hermione xx_

Harry sighed when he read the note. He didn’t know exactly how his friends would take the news there was a part of Voldemort in his head, but he did know they would understand better than Draco initially had of his need to destroy it, even if it was to the cost of his own life. He meant what he’d said to Draco in their argument; some things were more important than him living. Draco had been much more reasonable and understanding once the initial shock of Harry being a Horcrux had worn off, and he even accepted the risk Harry would have to take to purge it. It didn’t mean he was happy with the situation though. 

Two nights later, Harry and Draco Apparated under the cloak to Hogsmeade, and quickly entered the Shrieking Shack. Draco had been less than impressed when Harry had explained that the ‘haunted’ shack had actually been Remus in his werewolf form. The pair made their way through the tunnel as quickly as they could. Harry had grown a lot since his third year and the passage was a narrower fit than it had been three years previously. 

They emerged from the trunk of the Whomping Willow and into the Hogwarts grounds. Either Ron or Hermione had stilled the tree for them as it didn’t try and attack. Draco reached for Harry’s hand but was halted by a sudden call of “Harry!” from where two balls of wand light were shimmering, standing out from the shadows. 

“Oi! What’s he doing here?” Ron said angrily, indicating Draco but refusing to look at him directly, as he and Hermione moved closer to Harry. Draco snarled and Harry winced. He knew bringing Draco with him hadn’t been a good idea. 

“He,” replied Draco with a voice laced with acid, wand light revealing the haughty face Harry knew too well from their time at school, “has come to support a _friend_ , given that ‘ _he’_ has done far more to help Harry in the fight against Voldemort than you two have of late.”

“That’s not true,” Ron retorted hotly. 

“Oh really? Okay then, Weasel, a quick show of hands. Who here has been with Harry whilst he’s found two Horcruxes? Whose information has made it possible for them to be found in the first fucking place? No, come on, keep your hands up so I can count.”

“Only because your father is Death Eater scum,” Ron snapped.

“Ooh, hit a nerve have I? Evil old Malfoy turning out to be more useful than the ginger wanker?”

“Fuck you,” Ron barked. Draco smirked. 

“I’d rather you didn’t, all the same with you.” He looked at Hermione suggestively. “I don’t know where you’ve been.”

Harry lost his temper then, just as Ron looked like he was about to make a charge at Draco.

“Shut up, the pair of you. Draco, I let you come on the condition you didn’t wind Ron and Hermione up. You couldn’t even manage thirty seconds which didn’t even live up to the paltry expectations I had of you this evening. Now be quiet and stop insulting my best friends, or go home and I’ll talk to them alone if you can’t control your tongue. Ron, Draco is here because he’s been crucial so far in finding two Horcruxes and he’s become a close friend, as I’ve already told you, so drop your pathetic prejudices. He also already knows what I need to tell you. Now, do you think we can make it into the castle without you killing each other?”

Ron and Draco both looked suitably chastised, and promptly fell silent. Harry met Hermione’s eye, who was giving him and approving look. 

“You’ve really matured, Harry,” she told him quietly as they headed towards the main entrance. Harry smiled at her, before turning to cast Disillusionment Charms on himself and Draco. 

They made it to the seventh floor without being disturbed, and Harry paced three times in front of the wall that was the entrance to the room of requirement. _I need somewhere to break some bad news, I need somewhere to break some bad news, I need somewhere to break some bad news._ After the third time walking past, the familiar door appeared. He pushed the door open and went inside, removing his Disillusionment Charm as he did so.

The room had done well. There were a couple of two-seater sofas and a coffee table, with a box of tissues atop and a roaring fireplace. It had been decorated in neutral, earthy colours but was light rather than bleak. Harry took the seat nearest the fire, sinking down into the soft brown leather. Draco predictably took the seat next to him whilst Ron and Hermione occupied the two-seater opposite them. 

“What is this about Harry?” Hermione asked. Both she and Ron looked pale. Harry took a deep breath. 

“Okay, there’s not a great way to say this. Um, a few days ago Draco and I were practising Occlumency and Draco found something in my mind, a foreign body not part of me.” He paused for a second before continuing, but whilst Ron sat waiting for Harry to continue Hermione let out a gasp and her hands flew over her mouth, eyes wide and frightened. 

“Oh no, Harry,” she whispered softly. “No, no no.” Harry gave her a small, sad smile. 

“I’m afraid so. Ron, as Hermione’s just worked out, the night Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby, his soul was so unstable that after the Killing Curse rebounded on him it threw a piece of his soul out of his body, and latched itself onto me. Snape used Legilimency on me and found it too, and he confirmed what it is. I’m the unintentional eighth Horcrux, and whilst I remain one Voldemort cannot die.”

“Right, mate. So how do we get it out then?” Ron said, determination evident in every syllable, Hermione nodding her head in agreement of her boyfriend’s words, the pair masking their true shock. Harry had to smile. This was the reaction he thought he was going to get from these two. _The opposite of Draco’s. Of course, I’m not sleeping with Ron and Hermione but they both love me and care for me too. The difference between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. They understand me and accept the risk. They know it needs to be done._

“I need to infect myself with Basilisk venom,” Harry said, as Hermione and Ron both shuddered but, thankfully, remained quiet. “After that I will take a potion that Snape will brew. This potion wouldn’t work had I not have been, er, exposed to Basilisk venom back in second year, as the body apparently builds up some natural tolerance and can create a limited defence. But it means I can stand to have the venom in my body for longer than I would normally, and it will be long enough to kill the part of Voldemort’s soul in me, as it doesn’t have my tolerance. Then Snape’s potion will hopefully revive me and purge the soul.”

“Only ‘hopefully’?” gasped Hermione at the same time Ron said “And if the potion doesn’t work?” Harry chanced a glance at Draco. He was glaring at his two best friends. Whether because he had hoped they could talk Harry out of it and obviously weren’t going to, or because they reacted better than he initially had, Harry did not know. He didn’t have time to consider it either. 

“Yes, Hermione, only ‘hopefully’, but I have full faith and trust in Snape’s potions. And, Ron, if it doesn’t work, well, by thenall the Horcruxes will be gone and Voldemort can be defeated. You'll just have to work with Snape Draco and Remus to finish him without me.” Draco’s lips thinned and he closed his eyes at this, refusing to show too much emotion about just how badly Harry’s death would affect him in front of Harry’s friends.

“Dumbledore, it turns out, knew all about this,” Harry continued, addressing his friends once more. He couldn’t keep the bitterness and disappointment he still felt towards Dumbledore out of his voice. “But yet again he failed to tell me. What he did do was give Snape a vial of Fawkes’ tears about two months before he died, telling him he’d know what they were for when the time came. I don’t know what he thought he was doing but I can’t afford to dwell on that. I am sure Snape had his suspicions but he couldn’t tell me until he was sure. I just worked it out first. I’ve told Snape that I will be the last, um, Horcrux to be destroyed. If the only reason I can see into Snakeface’s soul and speak Parseltongue is because of it then I need to hold onto it until the last minute. The Parseltongue especially. Actually I want to teach you guys- Draco, you too- some basic Parseltongue like ‘open’ and stuff, just in case.”

“Won’t you remember it?” This time Draco spoke. Harry shook his head. 

“No. I can’t hear the difference between the two languages in my head. It just sounds like English. So I need to teach it to you as if and when I do lose the ability that’s it, it’ll be gone completely if you don’t know any.”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Ron said. “He’ll be out of your mind soon, and the potion will work, I know it will.”

Heartened by his friends’ reactions and support, Harry spent the next hour relaying words in Parseltongue until Draco, Ron and Hermione could repeat the hissing sounds so precisely they came out as perfect Parseltongue. Harry had toyed with a certain decision all evening, but had made up his mind finally. 

Right. Draco, can you produce a small snake from your wand please, and you and Ron practise speaking to it? Just the basic commands I’ve shown you. I’m going to discuss something with Hermione.

He saw Draco cast the spell and a small, harmless grass snake appeared on the floor. Soon he and Ron were absorbed in their task, even forgetting to fight with one another. Harry gave them both a fond smile, then patted the seat next to him, gesturing for Hermione to join him. He erected a quick privacy ward.

“I need to tell you something else, nothing bad but I don’t want Ron to know just yet, so before I tell you I need to know if you’re uncomfortable keeping something from him,” Harry said. Hermione thought for a moment.

“No, that’s fine. I mean, I don’t want to _lie_ , but not telling isn’t the same as lying is it?” Harry smiled at her. Hermione Granger, honest to the core. 

“No it’s not. Erm, Hermione, Draco and I… we’re… I mean…” He took a deep breath. “Hermione, Draco and I aren’t just friends. We’re together. As in _together_ together.”

Hermione looked as if she had been Stupefied. Harry internally congratulated himself on finally managing to render Hermione speechless. After a minute she recovered enough to close her mouth. 

“When did this happen?” she asked. Harry flushed. 

“This is the bit you’ll be mad at me about. Mid-August. Just after we found the locket.” The look on Hermione’s face now was one of disbelief.

“You were together when we went into the Chamber of Secrets, and on my birthday! And we never knew! So you’re…?”

“Gay? Yes. I knew that before any of this happened though. He’s not ‘turned’ me or anything else ridiculous you might be considering. Actually I realised it when I was still with Ginny.”

“And is it serious? Have you slept with him?”

“Have you slept with Ron?” Harry replied pointedly in response, raising an eyebrow at her. Hermione blushed.

“Okay, point taken, it’s not my business. Sorry, Harry. It’s just, it’s…”

“Draco Malfoy? A Slytherin? Another bloke?” Harry offered, somewhat defensively. 

“No, I was going to say surprising actually. But even I can see he’s different to how he was in school, even though he’s being an arse to Ron tonight. And he’s obviously on our side. I don’t have to like him, as long as you do, and you’ve obviously seen something we don’t in him. But be careful, I don’t want you to get hurt. Harry, is this why you were so desperate for us to trust him? Because he’s your boyfriend?”

“No, Hermione, he’s my boyfriend because I trust him, not the other way round. I don’t trust blindly, you of all people should know that. But I told you back in September that you needed to trust my judgement. I really hope you do now. So, are we okay? Or is this going to totally ruin things between us now?”

Hermione leant into Harry and curled up at this side. “Course not. It’s just going to take a while to sink in.”

“You seem more shocked about this than you do finding out I have a piece of Voldemort’s soul in me,” Harry said after a couple of minutes. Hermione gave a small chuckle.

“I think I am! You and Draco Malfoy!”

“We were always drawn to each other, Hermione. We couldn’t leave each other alone. When we realised we didn’t actually hate each other it’s only natural it quickly developed to love.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “So it is love then? You’re in love with him?”

“Completely and unashamedly so, yes,” Harry replied. “I turn into a sappy girl when I think about him. And remarkably he feels the same. This whole ‘me being a Horcrux’ thing has really upset him, you know. He’s terrified I’m not going to make it.”

“You’re Harry Potter. You always make it,” Hermione said with a smile, which Harry returned fully, giving her hand a squeeze.

At that moment Ron managed to set the snake on Draco, who Vanished it with a flick of his wand before turning his wand on Ron. The two began firing Hexes at each other. Harry groaned and put his head in his hands. 

“Not telling Ron yet about you and Draco is a very good idea,” Hermione said calmly, her Shield Charm erected between the two before she promptly hit the pair with a Body-Bind Curse apiece. “A very good idea indeed.”

 

****

 

****

****

****

****

****

****

****


	11. Interlude: Chapter eleven: Dispairing Dursleys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short-ish and is a quick look into the lives of the Dursley family since they and Harry parted ways. It's not part of the main story.  
  
---  
  
When the Order of the Phoenix decided that Hestia Jones was to play a lead role in the protection and welfare of Harry Potter’s Muggle relatives, her overwhelming emotion was one of pride. Surely if anyone, besides the Boy Who Lived himself, deserved the protection of the Order it was the family who had provided a loving home and cared for Harry as their own child for the past sixteen years? Hestia Jones considered it an honour to be playing a part in ensuring their safety. 

On the evening of the twenty seventh of July, however, Hestia, along with Dedalus Diggle, witnessed a very different version of events from that they had pictured in their minds. Instead of the grief-ridden Dursleys, frightened for the welfare of their beloved nephew and heartbroken at the prospect of being separated from him indefinitely they expected to find, they stumbled upon a very indifferent obese man who resembled a cross between a walrus and a beetroot (if his skin tone was anything to judge by), a large boy who seemed to be one bludger short of a Quidditch set and a very fussy and uptight woman who was staring at Harry Potter like she was wishing he would just disappear. 

Hestia witnessed the farewell Harry shared with his Muggle relatives, an awkward exchange of brief, insincere goodbyes between him and the two adults, whilst the boy offered some form of reconciliation to Harry, although she did not believe it to be enough. Hestia began to wonder in that moment whether Harry had received the upbringing she had always believed he had. 

When Harry himself didn’t seem concerned or distressed by the Dursleys’ departure, Hestia formed a plan. So convinced she had been of the Dursleys’ love for their nephew, she had secured a magnificent five bedroom detached house complete with garage, two-acre garden and upstairs sun terrace for the family to live in, in the upmarket area of Didsbury in Manchester. She had arranged for the family to receive a brand new top-of-the-range BMW as their new car. And she had acquired a place at a local fee-paying independent school for Dudley, a job working in a very smart office for Vernon, complete with a good salary, and arranged courses and activities for Petunia to take part in to acquaint herself with her neighbours, make friends and settle in. No more than Harry Potter’s relatives deserved, she had believed.

Hestia no longer believed this family deserved any such luxuries. From what she had observed in the short time she was in Privet Drive, including Harry’s indifference to them and the lack of any affection for him from the Dursleys, she gathered that they had never treated Harry well. She was, frankly, outraged. As she sat in the back of Vernon Dursley’s car, the Dudley boy sandwiched between herself and Dedalus, she frankly couldn’t imagine three worse Muggles to bring up a magical child.

When Vernon Dursley stopped the car for petrol, Hestia discreetly sent a Patronus to those in the Order who weren’t currently involved in moving Harry, who, fully agreeing with Ms Jones, managed to rearrange in less than two hours the living arrangements for the family, cancel the car, organise employment for Vernon Dursley in a less prominent position and enrolled Dudley at a local college instead of his exclusive and expensive independent school, before relaying the new address to her through a communication device similar to Hermione’s DA coins. It’s a wonder what magic can achieve. 

****

“What the Ruddy Hell is this? I’m not moving in here,” Vernon barked as he pulled up outside a high-rise block of flats with graffiti-covered walls in one of the more deprived areas of Manchester late that night. The whole area just screamed unsafe; there was the broken remains of a glass beer bottle on the floor, and what looked like a blood trail leading from the largest shard to the flat’s entrance. The corner shop at the end of the street was boarded up and had metal bars across it, whilst someone had sprayed, ‘United are fuckers, the sky blues rule Manchester’ in six feet high, bright blue letters on the wall.A pile of vomit laid in the doorway, and some vile racial slurs graffitied onto the opposite wall. The entire scene was completed with a huge pile of dog shit about three feet from where Vernon had parked the car. Vernon’s narrowed eyes surveyed the scene with extreme loathing. “You think, I mean, did _your lot_ actually assume that I would move my family into this hole?”

“Mr Dursley,” Hestia began, with a forced patience to her voice. “The Order of the Phoenix is paying for your protection. We’re in the middle of a war in our world, sir. There are simply not the funds available to fund a more comfortable lifestyle for your family at this present time.” The lie came easily to her; Dumbledore had, in fact, left his Gringotts vaults to the Order, for use in the war with Voldemort and it left the Order of the Phoenix financially very comfortable. 

“Then I will fund this myself. I certainly don’t need hand-outs from a bunch of-”

“Vernon!” Petuniagasped. “The car windows are open and there is a group of people not twenty feet away. Lower your voice!”

“No doubt they’re all on drugs anyway so think they see… wizards every night,” Vernon replied, flinching as he spat out the word ‘wizard’. “Look at them, bunch of layabouts. All baseball caps and tracksuits. Bet none of them have done an honest day’s work in their lives! And addicts to boot! I shall not have Dudley mixing with people like that. I am going to a hotel.”

“Mr Dursley,” Hestia repeated. “As you have been informed, your bank accounts and assets have been temporarily frozen by undercover wizards working at your Muggle bank, in order to protect them and you. We have to keep you anonymous. That means moving to a large city with a big population, new names, new transport, and basically a completely new life. Besides which, this is the property that has had all the protection we can throw at it added. There are wards and Charms on your flat that will allow only you, and those to whom you grant permission, to enter. Go elsewhere and the Death Eaters could arrive on your doorstep anytime they like.”

That did it. Petunia Dursley paled and her lips thinned, Dudley let out a whimper of despair, and Vernon growled, but their retort was lost. With a satisfied smile, Hestia opened the car door and stepped out towards the building’s entrance, leaving Vernon to retrieve all the luggage from the car’s boot. 

“What floor of this ruddy thing are we on?” he asked waspishly.

“I believe it’s the twelfth floor, Mr Dursley,” Hestia replied, voice deadpanned and calm but with a mischievous sparkle to her hazel eyes which looked almost like cat’s-eyes in the pale light of the waning moon. “So I do hope the lifts are in good order here.” Vernon grunted as his thick neck snapped up and he began counting twelve floors up, his mouth moving silently almost in disbelief and his puce-coloured face acquiring a dangerous crimson to its cheeks that lead Hestia to briefly consider the welfare of the man’s heart. 

****

The inside of the flat was small, but relatively clean and comfortable, if in desperate need of modernising. There was an entrance hall with a worn carpet and fading wallpaper that had a slight smell of stale tobacco lingering to it. The master bedroom had a double bed and a wardrobe crammed in, with very little room for anything else. The walls had garish pink roses repeated across the wallpaper, with a lingering smell of cats embedded in the small rug by the door. Dudley’s room was even smaller; a small lumpy bed was shoved in the corner of the magnolia-painted room and the carpet a dull grey. A simple writing desk and chair was wedged in below the window and a tiny chest of drawers completed the furniture. Hestia smiled as she heard Dudley’s wail of anguish as he surveyed the room. 

Aunt Petunia looked close to a stroke when she saw the kitchen. It was clean but basic; the cheap plastic work surfaces were stained and worn. The cupboards were hung unevenly on the walls and there was no dishwasher. The surfaces looked like they were once white but now resembled a dirty cream colour from years of use. It was equipped with working, but outdated appliances. Petunia gave a large, melodramatic sniff and turned her head away, as one would to avoid witnessing a horrific accident. 

The living room was again simple- two worn armchairs, one small sofa. All in some scratchy material. A threadbare rug covered the brown carpet and the walls were covered in some kind of chocolate and orange swirl-patterned wallpaper. Vernon said little, but Hestia believed she could actually see the pulse in his temple throbbing in disbelief that this was his new home. 

“Right, we’ll leave you to, um, settle in then,” Dedalus said, barely containing a grin. He and Hestia quickly checked the wards and, satisfied with the security on the property, wished the Dursleys a goodnight and promised to return in the morning with the details about their transport and Vernon’s job.

 _And if they react half as delightfully to that as they have this flat, then I am one step closer in seeking atonement for Harry,_ Hestia thought happily. _Besides, this really was quite fun._ As the lift reached the ground floor an idea struck Hestia and she performed a quick charm on the lift shaft, before exiting the building and stepping into the warm July night. As she and Dedalus Disapparated from the deserted street, she allowed herself a chuckle, and thought she would sleep very easily that night. 

****

Vernon Dursley’s first day at his new job was unsuccessful, to say the least. Already furious that his ‘brand new vehicle’ turned out to be a pushbike, his next unpleasant surprise was to discover his job was as a porter in the rather upmarket Lowry Hotel. He had to wear a ridiculous and ill-fitting uniform which was hot and itchy on his back, and by the third set of suitcases he had dragged to the fifth floor that morning he was out of breath and his back drenched in sweat. He was still outside his last clients’ room when he heard the woman say to her husband, “what a disgusting, sweaty man. Pass me a towel darling, I need to wipe the suitcase handles,” and the man give a haughty laugh in response. 

His day didn’t improve, and nor did his week, or indeed the whole of August. The only good thing was he was losing a lot of weight. He spent all day- and sometimes night, depending on the shifts- hauling heavy luggage around, then when he cycled home he had to walk up to his flat as the lift would inevitably be out of order. He cursed under his breath as he ascended the hundreds of stairs, before clutching his chest and panting furiously at the top of the stairwell. Something just didn’t seem right about that; the lifts always worked for Petunia, and even Dudley. _Bloody Freaks had something to do with that, that Hestia woman has done this one purpose, mark my word,_ he thought. He may just have been right. 

****

The First of September was no laughing matter for Dudley, either. Never academically gifted, it was merely his father’s bank account that was keeping him in Smelting’s exclusive sixth form; now enrolled in state education with only a handful of low GCSE passes and nothing above a D grade he found himself unable to complete his final year of study. Instead he embarked on a course in car mechanics, much to his father’s chagrin; manual labour wasn’t a suitable career for his offspring. Dudley had sharply reminded him of his own current employment and Vernon had removed the portable television from Dudley’s miniscule bedroom and thrown it down the rubbish chute as punishment for backchat. Even Vernon had admitted that was a stupid thing to do later that evening. 

And so here Dudley was, small fish in a big pond, walking through the doors of the Manchester College on his first day. He was already half an hour late, having got completely lost from the bus stop, and called a ‘soft southern Nancy boy’ by some nasty little teenager who followed him from the bus, shooting spit-soaked balls of paper at him from the plastic tube of a Biro for the entire journey on foot. He had endured a lecture from the very disappointed college Head, preaching to Dudley on the importance of timekeeping, before being led to the mechanics department. 

Instantly he got a bad vibe from the mechanics teacher, Mr Tunnicliffe. He looked over at Dudley through slightly oil-smudged glasses, hair slick with car grease, and sneered. 

“So good of you to join us, Mister Evans,” he drawled, using the fake surname the Dursleys were using and looking at his watch dramatically whilst the rest of the class laughed. “I guess punctuality isn’t important to privately-educated folk used to buying their way out of trouble. You will not be late again, or you risk being thrown out my class. Take your seat and take out your notebook.” 

He then returned to the complex explanation of an internal combustion engine that went right over Dudley’s head. To his horror he found his eyes prickling; the last time he had cried was two years ago after Harry had rescued him from those Demented thingies. _Harry_. Dudley admitted to himself, somewhat shamefully, that Harry hadn’t crossed his mind once since his family had moved into the flat. They had parted on fair terms but Dudley knew they’d never fully make up. He just hoped that wherever Harry was, and what he was doing, he was happy and, more importantly, safe. 

As the weeks passed Dudley’s course didn’t become any easier. To his immense disappointment and embarrassment he found himself failing the course spectacularly; the subject of car mechanics neither interested him nor seemed to make any sense. He found himself longing to be back at Smeltings with Piers; of course, he was failing his A levels spectacularly too, but that didn’t matter so much when he had his friends with him. Here he was an outcast, a freak. He sat alone in class. He sat alone at lunch. He sat alone on the bus journey home, avoiding the jeers and taunts from his classmates. He sat in the uncomfortable scratchy armchair in the ugly dingy living room of his crappy flat in the evenings watching TV then he crawled into his lumpy bed in his pokey room for sleep, before the whole sorry cycle repeated itself in the morning. He was completely and utterly miserable. Dudley just wanted to go home. 

****

Petunia Dursley almost fainted the first time she laid eyes on the kitchen of where she was expected to live for the next God-knows how long. She felt her stomach give a physical jolt of revulsion as she surveyed the scene before her. Despite the fact the family hadn’t arrived at the flat until well after midnight, as soon as Hestia and Dedalus left she foraged in the coffee-stained cupboards until she found a pair of Marigolds, a cloth and a bottle of bleach. She fruitlessly scrubbed her kitchen until her arms ached with fatigue. It had made no difference. _It was almost as if the stains had been spelled on_ … no, thoughts like that won’t do, she rebuked herself angrily. 

Petunia had bought the strongest cleaners available over the coming weeks, yet nothing shifted the stains. Her bony hands were dry and cracked from scrubbing the flat from top to bottom and, whilst it now had a pleasant lemon fragrance, the stains hadn’t shifted. Her back hurt from lugging the laundry to the laundrette half a mile from their flat. She missed her perfectly neat garden, filled with sweet-smelling summer roses, hyacinths and lavender, as well as her vegetable patch. She despaired when she saw her garden in her mind’s eye in its current state- overgrown with weeds, parched and browning from lack of watering.

Having finally given up on her Stain Purging Mission around mid- September, Petunia decided to try and get out of her monstrosity of a flat as much as possible. A lovely autumnal walk in a nearby park in late October was abruptly ruined, however, when a passing flock of birds all decided, almost in unison, to defecate on her, much to the amusement of a small child and her mother who were feeding the ducks nearby. Humiliated and covered in bird shit, Petunia practically ran the mile back to the flat, hurtled herself up the numerous staircases (the lifts were genuinely broken this time) and into her dingy bathroom. She stripped and turned on the shower, where she stood under the pathetic dribble of lukewarm water for forty minutes, crying softly.

****

As Christmas rolled around, the entire family was dejected and frustrated; their once proud appearance broken. Although the Order was paying the rent and bills on the flat, Vernon’s meagre wage as a porter had not brought in much in the way of disposable income. Dudley bit back a sob on Christmas morning when he saw only four small-ish gifts crudely wrapped under the tiny plastic badly decorated Christmas tree. 

Petunia was busying herself in the kitchen preparing Christmas dinner when she heard a tapping on the window. Being twelve floors up she was totally unprepared for this and promptly dropped the saucepan of frozen peas she was just putting on to boil, sending them all over the kitchen floor. She crossed to the window, opened it, and cursed as the tawny owl flew in, with what appeared to be a Christmas card in its beak. She took the envelope from the owl without glancing at its face, and the owl turned and promptly flew back out the window, pausing only to do on her work surfaces what the flock of pigeons had done to her a couple of months previously. 

“Vernon!” She called through to the living room. “Come here! That lot have sent us one of those owls!” She heard Vernon swear loudly, and grunt as he got out of the chair. Five months of physical work had improved his body immensely and he had shed nearly four stone. Unfortunately his temper had not improved with this physical change. His face appeared round the kitchen door, red and ugly, his right eye twitching. 

“What do those ruddy freaks want now?” he barked at his wife. Petunia opened the envelope, which had been sealed with wax, and removed a Muggle Christmas card with slightly trembling fingers. It had a picture of a snowman dancing with a small boy and girl, with ‘Have a Magical Christmas!’ written across the top in red glitter. Vernon gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. 

Petunia opened the card and gave a small yelp in surprise as a few photos fell to the ground. She bent down to retrieve them at the same time Dudley entered the kitchen, and the family stared at them, confused. One was of a beautiful and obviously expensive house, another of a brand new BMW that Vernon would secretly prefer over sex with his wife, and various other pictures, ranging from the outside of a private schoolto a huge, perfectly maintained garden. Looking like they had both received a Confundus Charm apiece, they simultaneously read the inscription in the card.

_Merry Christmas to the Dursley family!_

_We hope you enjoyed the images we sent with this card. A Muggle-born member of the Order remembers a vellytision show called ‘Bullseye’ and wants you to know that this was kind of the ‘let’s take a look at what you could have won’ situation. You see, this was to all be yours. The house, the car, the idyllic, luxurious lifestyle. Then, of course, we realise how you had been treating Harry Potter these past sixteen years. So we rearranged everything to give you something that you all truly deserved._

_Was it really so much to take in a small orphaned boy? To show him some kindness, compassion? Neglect is a form of child abuse. It is no thanks to you that Harry Potter has grown up understanding love, goodness and loyalty. And we are fiercely loyal to him in return._

_You gave that boy ten years of unbearable suffering, and many miserable summers since then. Sixteen years’ worth of mistreatment. You have only had five months of this. You will pay for every last cruel thing you ever did to that boy. This is just the beginning._

_Wishing you Glad Tidings of the Yuletide,_

_The Order of the Phoenix_

Petunia closed her eyes and leant against the owl-shit covered surface for support whilst Vernon bunched the card up in his fists and Dudley stood stupidly on the spot, mouth slightly open. She thought that once Harry finished doing whatever he was off doing then this nightmare would all be over and they could return home to their old life. It appears she was very, very wrong. It was only just beginning. 


	12. Christmas Revelations

"Oh fuck, yes, there, just like that,” Harry moaned, as Draco leant forwards and took his mouth in his own for a deep kiss, tongues intertwining and the pair’s sweat- drenched bodies colliding. Draco broke the kiss and straightened his back once more to resume his seated position, thrusting his hips up and down as he rode on Harry’s erection, his fingers gripping Harry’s sides tight enough to leave bruises.

“Touch yourself. I want to watch you make yourself come,” Harry whispered, something he wouldn’t normally have the nerve to say, even for the courageous Gryffindor he is, but he was so wrapped up in the moment he didn’t care. Draco’s momentary surprise was replaced almost instantly by a very lascivious smirk, and his right hand reached around his front to massage his balls as he angled his thrusts so Harry’s shaft was hitting his prostate. Harry fought the urge to throw his head back and screw his eyes shut tight as sensation threatened to overwhelm him; Draco on display like this was a sight we has not prepared to miss. 

Draco leant back further, clearly determined to give Harry a show. He displayed himself fully to his lover, who groaned in response, as Draco’s hands explored his own body. When the blond began to fist his own erection, Harry very nearly lost it, but he was determined Draco would come first. He began thrusting his own hips in time to the strokes Draco was giving his own shaft, then felt Draco’s rhythm falter, before the blond stiffened and cried out, releasing onto Harry’s stomach. It took only two more thrusts before Harry was coming, hard, into his boyfriend, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a cry of his own. 

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” Draco said, leaning forwards to kiss the brunet deeply.

“Mmmmmmm. Merry Christmas, yourself,” Harry replied when the kiss ended, still panting slightly.

“Thank Merlin for Silencing Charms,” he sighed breathlessly as Draco removed himself from Harry’s lap, chuckling. 

“Lupin won’t have heard, will he?”

“No,” Harry replied. “Full moon was the fourteenth. It’s only a few days either side of it that heightens his hearing. Erm, Draco, not that I don’t like lying here like this, but I’d quite like my arms back now please.”

“No. I’m going to leave you like that all day and you can be my personal sex slave.”

“Draco…”

Draco laughed again and reached over to his bedside table to retrieve a small silver key, which he inserted into the handcuffs that were firmly securing Harry’s wrists to the headboard. 

“And you thought this Muggle toy was a waste of money,” he drawled, as Harry gingerly rubbed his aching wrists. “Come on, we’d best get showered and dressed and go and see the others. Besides, I want my presents.”

“I just gave you your present,” Harry smirked.

“And I very much enjoyed unwrapping it too,” Draco replied with a grin. “But unless we’re going to hide in here all day- and as you’re leaving me alone with Severus to go swanning off to the Weasleys on our first Christmas together that’s not such a bad idea- we need to get a move on.”

Harry still refused to get out of bed. Draco laughed. “Fine. I’ll guess I’m going to soap up my body alone then.”

“I’m coming!” Harry shouted, jumping out of bed. 

“Not yet you’re not, but you will be again in a few minutes,” Draco replied, walking into the bathroom, Harry hot on his heels.

****

Harry was pleased with the presents he had received. Rather predictably, Snape had given him a book. It was on Dark magic but it was so old, and filled with hand-written annotations that Harry was sure Snape had once prized it. It meant more than Harry had realised it would that Snape would think Harry worthy to receive such a gift. This brought a small lump to his throat which he wasn’t expecting and he fought it down with a heartfelt ‘thank you’. 

Remus and Tonks had both given him magical items. Tonks’ gift was a glass sphere that looked like a Remembrall and worked in a similar way, except it filled with an amethyst-looking smoke if someone Disillusioned or under an Invisibility Cloak was within fifty feet. The other gift was a Pensive, which Remus had filled with memories of Harry’s parents from everyone that he could think of. The lump in Harry’s throat returned and he practically flew into Remus’ arms as way of thanks.

It was Draco’s present that really had Harry stuttering for words, however. It was an amulet, with a small lion pendant hanging from it, which had a series of rubies- Harry’s birthstone- set into the gold in a pattern. 

“The rubies form the pattern of the constellation Draco,” the blond informed him. “The Blacks always name their offspring after some celestial body. This is what I was named after. I’ve performed some charms on it which means the amulet is meant to repel evil. I don’t think they’ll work against Voldemort, but it’s more of my way of saying I’m never going to leave your side in this fight.”

Harry leant over and, forgetting the other three adults in the room, kissed Draco deeply before slipping the chain over his head. “Thank you,” he whispered, gripping Draco’s hand tightly. 

Harry had also got Draco jewellery. Admittedly it wasn’t as grand, as his own Muggle currency supply was dangerously low but he hoped Draco liked it all the same. It was a silver ring, a circular band like a wedding ring, encrusted with a single garnet, which represented passionate devotion, and several smaller stones of agate which, Harry had been told by the Muggle jeweller who made the ring, traditionally represented strength. Harry knew Draco would understand the significance of the stones and indeed he did. He took the ring and slipped it on to the middle finger of his right hand. 

Although the Slytherin offered no more than a genuine and heart-felt ‘thank you’ in front of the others, Harry knew Draco well enough by now to see the blond’s eyes betraying his true emotions. They were a burning silver that were a perfect match for the metal of his ring, and spoke all the words of love that he was uncomfortable saying in front of others. He simply reached out to Harry and drew him close, holding him tight against his own body. For Harry this simple gesture was enough, and he melted into the embrace, thinking there was unlikely to be anyone else in the world who he would ever want to hold him like this at any other moment in his life. It was always going to be Draco. This thought didn’t trouble him at all. 

****

Harry, Remus and Tonks, who now had a very tiny pregnancy bump, Apparated to The Burrow at lunch time to a resounding, “Harry dear!” almost shrieked by Mrs Weasley before he was suddenly surrounded by a lot of redheads, all beaming and hugging him and patting him on the back. He heard a lot of ‘alright mate’s and ‘it’s been so long’s and ‘about time you showed your ugly specky face’ (from the twins) before the gathering broke apart, allowing Harry to take in some much-needed air. The only two Weasleys who hadn’t greeted him were Percy, who was estranged from his family for the third Christmas in a row, and Ginny, who simply stood in the doorway, a hard, hostile expression etched on her features. Harry suddenly remembered the last time he had been inside The Burrow with the entire Weasley clan. It was his seventeenth birthday and the day had not gone well at all. 

“Um, hey, Gin,” Harry offered to his ex- girlfriend, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth. At these simple words Ginny’s steely expression softened and she beamed at Harry.

“Hey, yourself,” she said cheerfully, as her shoulders slumped in relief, before claiming the seat next to Harry that he had just sat down in. 

The hopeful smiles and suggestive glances Ginny continued to give Harry throughout the meal were disconcerting enough, but when Ginny’s hand slipped onto the inside of Harry’s thigh, he physically jumped, before taking her hand in his own and removing it from his leg. Ginny flushed an angry shade of red, before shouting, “What’s your problem, Harry?”

The entire table fell silent. Ginny’s outburst even caused Ron to put down his knife and fork and stare at his best friend, a slightly Stupefied expression on his face. Harry felt a flush form on his own cheeks. 

“Nothing is ‘my problem’. I just don’t want to be mauled by you whilst I’m trying to eat.” He tried to keep his voice light, but with a tone that clearly said _I’m not talking about this_ to it. Ginny didn’t take the hint. 

“’Mauled’? I’m hardly mauling you, Harry! I just wanted to show my boyfriend some affection on Christmas!”

Harry paled and he felt light-headed all of a sudden. “Gin, we’re not together anymore,” he said quietly but not unkindly. 

Ginny’s eyes became glassy and her voice broke as she talked. “B…but when this war is over, we’ll be together, right?”

“I’m not having this conversation here, in front of everyone, in the middle of Christmas dinner,” Harry replied through gritted teeth, well aware his failure to give a ‘yes’ to Ginny’s question was as good as giving a ‘no’; his panicked eyes searching out the sympathetic ones of Remus. “Later, okay?”

“No, Harry! You tell me now. I thought you ended it to save me from Voldemort- Oh for Merlin’s sake all of you, it’s just a bloody name! - and we’d be back together when this is all over. But you’re acting like you can’t bear for me to even touch you. There’s more to it than that, isn’t there? So what’s going on?”

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice was very small, and she leant over and rested a supportive hand on his arm from the opposite side of the table. “It’s okay. You don’t need to hide this. You’ve done nothing wrong. Tell them.” Ginny stared at the hand resting on Harry, and her eyes widened in disbelief.

“You… and HER?” Ginny all but screeched. Hermione laughed bitterly. 

“Don’t make yourself look like a bigger idiot than you’ve already done, Ginny. I’m in love with your brother, in case you haven’t noticed. And Harry is like a brother to me. Yes I love him, but never in that way.” She turned her attention back to Harry. “It’s okay,” she repeated, keeping her tone gentle.

Harry looked at all the faces round the table, every single one rapt. Molly looked confused and upset, Ron suspicious, but Fred and George were both staring in undisguised glee. But it was the subtle nod from Remus and the supportive smile from Tonks that helped him summon his courage. _Whatever happens next, I’m not alone,_ he thought.

“Fine, then!” he said, louder than he had intended. “Fine. You really want to know? And would rather hear this now in front of your whole family rather than wait till we’re in private? Ginny, one of the reasons I broke up with you, and the reason I won’t ever be getting back together with you, is because I’m gay.”

The stunned silence from the Weasleys as Harry’s bolt from the blue sank in probably lasted for two minutes, before the twins broke into identical sniggers, and turned their attention to Bill. 

“Hand it over then, big brother,” said Fred. 

“C’mon, William, pay up,” George quipped.

“How did you…” Bill began, but reached into his robes, shaking his head, before pulling out a small money pouch and tossing it to the twins, who caught it in unison. 

“Cheers for this, Harry, fifteen Galleons to us!” they laughed. 

Harry stared at them, incredulous, for a moment before standing up. 

“I’m sorry I ruined dinner, Mrs Weasley. I’m going to get some air,” he said, not really looking at anybody’s face, before leaving the table and walking into the garden, refusing to meet any of the many stares he received on his way out.

****

Harry wondered why the Weasley garden was freezing cold and covered in snow, compared to the mild Christmas the rest of the country was experiencing, before realising a meteorological harm of some kind must have been cast to make the garden more festive. The garden did look beautiful; the weak December sun was reflecting off the small ice crystals which made the snow almost sparkle, and the vast virgin whiteness helped calm him. He watched a robin, conspicuous with the red and brown feathers against the pallid background, foraging on a holly bush for berries. He took his gloves out of his jeans pocket and used one to brush the snow off the bench on the edge of the orchard, before sitting down. He then wished he’d used his wand to siphon off the snow instead of his glove because his glove was now all wet and cold, before realising he could just use his wand to perform a drying charm on his glove instead. He’s just finished this and put on his now-warm glove when a redheaded figure approached him from the Weasleys’ kitchen door. As the figure got closer he could see that it was Ron. Harry braced himself. 

“Um, can I sit down, mate?” Ron said when he approached the bench. Harry nodded and cleared the snow off the other side, instantly re-wetting his glove. 

“So. You certainly know how to drop a bombshell, hey, mate?” Ron began, offering an awkward smile to his best friend, which Harry returned. “Ah, how long have you, I mean, was it before Ginny? That you knew you’re, you know?”

Harry flushed. “Er, if you really want to hear this, and remember it’s _your sister_ we’re discussing here, then it became pretty obvious that girls just didn’t do it for me when we, um, tried to take the next step on from kissing, if you catch my drift. Certain, er, things didn’t want to, um, _rise_ to the occasion-” Harry’s face was scarlet by now and Ron looked slightly ill but was listening intently- “And then I had dreams, sexual ones, about me with men and… oh fuck, Ron, this is hard to talk about! And I was doing things with blokes, and I’d wake up in such a bloody state after them and I just knew. It’s not a phase, or some sort of rebellion I’m going through, or whatever else your mum no doubts thinks this is. This is who I am. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Likes Cock.”

Ron bust out laughing at Harry’s crude words and flung an arm around Harry’s shoulders. 

“Fred and George had bet Bill you were gay, you know. That’s what that was all about at the table. Apparently they made the bet at Bill and Fleur’s wedding reception. They said there was more to yours and Ginny’s breakup than just You-Know-Who. They’re quite insightful for a couple of berks really. And they’re on your side, mate. As am I. You’re my best friend, it’ll take a lot more than you fancying blokes to get rid of me, you know.”

Harry let out a deep breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding as relief flooded through him. He smiled at Ron, who instantly reciprocated, although Harry noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“There is one thing though, Harry. I can understand you telling Lupin- I mean, he’s almost like a dad to you and all that. But why did you tell Hermione and not me? She just told me you came out to her that day we met in the Room of Requirement back in October. I’m your best mate, and I have to be honest and tell you I’m a bit hurt you didn’t trust me.”

The feeling of dread was back- a feeling that made his insides feel as icy as the snow pressed against his back did. Tell Ron about Draco or not? Now was the time to decide. If Harry was honest with himself he was scared of Ron’s reaction. However the longer he put this off the worse it would be when he eventually told Ron. Plus he wasn’t ashamed of his relationship. Draco wasn’t some dirty little secret; he was Harry’s partner, his equal. His love. Harry shouldn’t feel as if he had to hide his boyfriend from those he cared most about. He shifted position on the bench, as if searching for a more comfortable spot amongst the slush and ice. He took another deep breath as he came to a decision, praying it was the right one.

“There’s a reason why I told Hermione, Ron. Yes I came out to her, but I needed to tell her something else. I’ll tell you everything now, and I’m pretty certain you’re going to hate it. I just hope you won’t hate me for it. I’m, er, not single. I mean, I have a boyfriend.”

“Why would I hate you having a boyfriend, Harry?” Harry could almost hear the smile in Ron’s voice and winced, waiting for the Knut to drop. “But you’re practically housebound at Grimmauld Place! How can you have a boyfriend? When did you find the time to meet…?” Ron paled and he gaped at Harry. 

“Well, fuck. So, which one is it then? Snape or Malfoy?”

Harry actually burst out laughing at that. “What the bloody hell, Ron? Snape?! Where did your sick mind get that from?” He instantly sobered and took a deep breath, realising that his response had all but confirmed to Ron his relationship with Malfoy; indeed Ron was looking at Harry as if he had suddenly grown a second head, or just revealed he had taken the Dark Mark and was off to join Voldemort. “But, um, yes, I’m in love with Draco. And he’s in love with me. And, er, we’ve been together for four months now. I am sorry I didn’t tell you, but I’m sure you must know why I didn’t.”

Ron looked as if he’d taken a Bludger to the head from close range hit by a particularly vindictive Crabbe. His face was almost as white as the snow, causing the freckles on his face to stand out horribly. When he spoke it wasn’t the ranting or yelling Harry had been expecting, nor was Ron’s speech full of his usual childish slurs such as ‘Slytherin git’. It was one of disbelief and disappointment, and icy cold. It made the hairs on Harry’s neck stand up on end. He would actually have preferred an angry Ron as he at least knew how to deal with that; this cold, saddened one was making him feel like he’d been a naughty boy caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“You’re in a relationship with Draco Malfoy. The _same_ Malfoy that hoped Hermione would die when the Chamber of Secrets was opened and has repeatedly called her ‘Mudblood’. The same Malfoy that stamped on your nose last year and broke it. The same Malfoy that almost got me killed on my birthday, nearly got Katie killed, and let the fucking Death Eaters into school in June? Harry, my brother is disfigured for life, and you’re sitting here and telling me you’re in love with the bastard that let it happen? How could you?” 

Harry sighed. Yes, he could understand Ron’s anger but he couldn’t keep having the same repeated conversation with him. “We’ve been over and over this, Ron, when I first told you he and Snape were living with me. He did what he needed to do to try and survive, and got desperate. Voldemort was going to kill his parents and he tried anything to protect them, particularly his mum. Draco is very intelligent, and the stupid things he tried, such as poison that mead, was so ridiculous and out of character for him that really does show where his head was at that time, you know. And he feels insanely guilty about letting the Death Eaters into school. And you know Dumbledore’s death wasn’t his fault. Do you really think I’d want to be with him if he was the same git he was at Hogwarts? Draco has grown up. You know how much he’s helped with the Horcrux search.We’ve found two of them directly thanks to Draco. Draco’s on our side. He’s gone a very long way to redeem himself you know.”

“But the way he treated you- us- at school, Harry. The things he said about Hermione, about my family!” Ron was beginning to raise his voice. Some of the earlier pallor was being replaced with an angry, blotchy red of which Harry was wary. This appearance in Ron usually preceded yelling. He forced his voice to come out quiet and even when he spoke.

“I know, Ron. But whatever went on before between us at school is over. And he has apologised to me, for all of it. But that all came from his father, you know. All his bigotry came directly from Lucius. Draco grew up in a closed-minded family and all he did was parrot what his parents taught him. He never had an independent thought as he was expected to just shut up and be a good little Pure-blood. Well, he’s thinking for himself now, and I’ve been educating him about the world. He genuinely doesn’t think Muggle-borns are inferior any more, and he’s even had some complimentary things to say about Hermione. Come on, Ron. My mum had the same blood status as Hermione, there’s no way I’d be with someone who insulted her. And he loves me, he really, genuinely does, and I’m only a half-blood.”

“But you hated each other so much at school. How could this have turned to love?” Ron’s voice had a defeated tone to it, Harry noticed. He smiled ruefully, and wondered if he could put an arm round Ron yet. He decided against it. Ron looked calmer but Harry knew from experience that his best friend was every bit the stereotypical hot-headed redhead, and Ron had just received some very unexpected news.

“So did my mum and dad. Well, my mum hated my dad, anyway. They fought like Kneazle and Crup at school. I saw it in that Pensive memory of Snape’s, and Lupin told me a lot about them too. And yet they ended up blissfully in love. It does happen and it’s not as rare as you might think. But we’re in the middle of a war. This is so much more important, more significant, than a stupid boyhood animosity. We’ve gotten over it, moved on and put the past firmly behind us, and when we did we realised pretty quickly that there was a lot more between us than friendship.”

“But… Malfoy! How can you go from hate to love, that quickly?”

“Dumbledore said my greatest gift was my ability to love. Draco and I have never been able to leave each other alone. There’s always been an intense attraction, even when that attraction was driven by loathing. That didn’t leave. We fell in love very quickly. And I am in love with him, Ron. I really, really am. And I know that no one saw this coming, and there were probably no two people less likely to get involved in a relationship with each other six months ago than me and Draco but I guess none of us know what life holds for us. This isn’t just some passing fancy, or an easy way to get laid until something better comes along. I’m pretty certain that what we have is going to be lifelong, Ron.”

Ron sighed and wiped a hand over his face. Harry noticed he had his eyes screwed tight, and his free hand was screwed so hard into a fist his knuckles were white. Harry wondered if Ron was thinking about punching him. He reached out and tentatively touched him on the arm, feeling momentarily gratified when the redhead didn’t throw it off. 

“Ron… are… are we okay?”

“No. No, Harry, we’re not.” Ron replied quietly, and Harry’s heart sank as he removed his hand from Ron’s arm, nodding his head miserably in resignation. Ron turned to look at him, offering the merest hint of a sad smile. “But we will be. I’m not losing my best friend just because he’s lost his fucking mind and shacked up with some Slytherin bastard. But don’t expect me to like the git. I’ll tolerate him. For you. Eventually. Look, perhaps you should go home. I’ll talk to you later.”

Harry didn’t want to leave things between them uncertain, but knew Ron needed to think things over. The fact he hadn’t yelled, or hit Harry yet, were all promising signs. “Can you and Hermione come over later? To Grimmauld Place I mean? I’ll open my Floo and you can come straight in. Please?”

Ron paused for a long moment, before giving the first true smile Harry had seen on his face since Harry had told the Weasleys he was gay. 

“Thanks, mate. I’d like that. We’ll be over about six.” Then he turned and trudged through the thick snow back to The Burrow, whilst Harry, heavy-hearted but also thinking that could have gone a lot worse, turned on the spot and Apparated back home.

****

“You’re back early,” Draco said to Harry in slight surprise, looking up from his book as Harry walked into the drawing room, then, seeing the look on his face, discarded his book onto the chair, crossed the room and took Harry in his arms. “Right. Shit. Weasley knows about us then. I take it he didn’t exactly welcome the news. Who spilled?”

“Erm, I did,” Harry replied, somewhat dazedly, and Draco’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as he stared, wide-eyed, at his boyfriend.“I, er, sort of completely ruined Christmas lunch by coming out to everyone.” 

He told Draco the whole story, how Ginny had pushed the situation and wouldn’t leave it, the twins’ bet, then relayed his conversation with Ron. Draco stroked Harry’s hair and held him close whilst the dark-haired boy was talking, not saying a word but inwardly seething. He really hated Weasleys. 

“And I think Ron is going to be all right with this eventually, but they’re coming over this evening. I’m, um, going to ask them both to live with us. Leave Hogwarts I mean.” Harry caught the look of horror on Draco’s face and didn’t know whether to feel annoyance or amusement. “Draco, it’s been over three months since Paris and we’ve got nowhere since. Not a single lead, other than finding out about me being a Horcrux too. We need them. There’s nothing left for them to research at Hogwarts. And I need to show them that they’re both still important to me- I don’t like the distance that’s formed between us the past few months.”

Draco knew deep down that Harry was right. They needed more people. If it had been anyone other than those two, Draco would have fully agreed. But, still… living with Weasley and Granger? Granger, Draco could probably make his peace with. She had supported Harry when he told her about his and Draco’s relationship, and Draco had to concede, grudgingly, that the girl was a genius. But the Weasel? Draco was pretty certain he’d have nothing in terms of brains to offer, and would be a loud-mouthed, uncouth housemate, who did things like leave his crockery in the sink for days on end until it began to fester. But Harry seemed to want him. And he and the Mud- _no, you can’t think like that anymore,_ he scolded himself- Granger came as a package deal. You ask for one, you get both. It was through gritted teeth and false cheerfulness that Draco relayed his agreement of the plan to Harry, who beamed at him in response. 

****

At six o’clock precisely that evening Harry’s Floo burst into life in a sea of emerald flames, and seconds later a very sooty Ron and Hermione spilled inelegantly out onto the hearth rug, coughing and spluttering slightly. Draco smirked. He knew it was childish of him but he was somewhat gratified to note that his own floo journeys were conducted with much more decorum than theirs. It was a tiny but, in Draco’s mind, significant victory.

Hermione brushed her hands on her jeans and, after greeting Harry warmly, extended her right one towards Draco in an offer of a handshake. 

“Hello, Draco,” she said, and gave the blond a genuine smile. Draco was momentarily wrong-footed, before he reached out and accepted Hermione’s hand. “Gra- I mean, Hermione,” he replied, returning the smile. The name felt alien on his lips, but this was important to Harry. He would try his best, and draw on all his experience of formal Malfoy dinners, to show impeccable manners. He looked up and saw Ron, arms folded and face set in a scowl, standing by the floo, glaring.

“Weasley,” Draco offered to the red head. Ron ignored him.

“It’s ‘Draco’ now, is it?” he asked his girlfriend, the surprise in his voice clear. “Him? Who called you ‘Mudblood’ for years and spoke about Muggle-borns like you’re all some kind of feral beast or something?”

Hermione sighed and gave Harry an apologetic look. “And as it was me he called by that term, don’t you agree, Ronald, that it is my decision whether or not I forgive him rather than yours?”

Ron stared at her for a second with his mouth slightly open and a pink tinge to his cheeks, before turning his attention back to Draco, who seemed just as stunned by Hermione’s apparent forgiveness of his actions as Ron did. 

“Okay, Malfoy, we need a chat. Just the two of us.” He walked to the doorway, indicating Draco should follow. Draco gave one last pleading look towards his boyfriend, which clearly said ‘don’t make me be alone with him’, but Harry actually thought it might help if they could have a ‘conversation’ alone. However he didn’t exactly want a fight to erupt between his lover and his best friend. He quickly drew his wand from his pocket. 

“ _Accio Draco’s and Ron’s wands_!” he commanded and caught them easily with the skill of a Seeker as they both shot out of their owner’s jean’s pockets and sped towards him. They both glared at Harry, who offered them an unrepentant smirk in return as his eyes followed them out of the room. 

“How long before we have to go in after them and stop them killing each other?” he asked his friend, slight amusement in his voice. Hermione laughed. 

“I’ll bet five minutes. Look, Harry, that may not have exactly been the ideal way to tell them all you know, but I was proud of you today.” She indicated the spot on the sofa next to her and, when Harry sat, she threw her arms around him. He returned the embrace, welcoming the familiar comfort of her arms.

“Ron really is on your side, you know,” Hermione continued, after the pair broke apart. “After you left this afternoon and he came back in he yelled at his mum, saying it was your business if you’re gay or not. She didn’t take the news too well. I think she’s just disappointed about you and Ginny to be honest, and the fact she won’t be getting you as a son in law. It really is just Malfoy he has problems with. I’ve had two months to get used to this. He’s had five hours.”

“And, um, how was Ginny?” Harry was almost afraid to ask.

Ginny had not taken the news well, according to Hermione. After Harry had gone into the garden, and Ron had followed him out, she had unfrozen from the position she had adopted since Harry had come out, and burst into tears at the table, before fleeing to her room. Hermione had tried to follow her but Ginny had apparently locked her door by pushing a chair under the handle so it couldn’t be turned, given her inability to use magic outside of school for another eight months, and short of blasting the door down, Hermione couldn’t get in. Hermione had managed to catch Ginny call her a ‘two faced lying bitch’ through the door and managed to catch ‘Going to hex Harry’s balls off’ as she trudged back down the stairs. 

In the few minutes of her absence Remus had made tea for the Weasleys and Tonks was comforting Molly, and the whole situation was extremely awkward. The Twins’ crude jokes about ‘The Chosen Bum’ did nothing to improve the situation. Hermione had quietly accepted her tea, avoiding the glares that Mrs Weasley was sending her way, before Molly suddenly erupted into a homophobic rant about ‘unnatural, nasty behaviour’ and ‘He seemed such a nice boy with good morals, how could I have misjudged him so badly?’ which, unfortunately for her, Ron had returned from his chat with Harry just in time to catch and he, along with Fred and George, had given her a very thorough dressing down. Overwhelming affection for his best friend and the twins filled Harry’s heart, but mixed in with this was the hideous dread that Mrs Weasley, someone he almost considered a mother to him in many ways, was severely disappointed in him and he’d broken Ginny’s heart. He pushed the thought away and returned his thoughts to the present. 

“Hermione, there was another reason I wanted you and Ron to come over this evening. How would you feel about not going back to Hogwarts after Christmas? I mean, you both come and live here. I’ll be honest, we’re getting nowhere, and you’re no use in school. Even Draco agrees that we need you. And… I really miss you both. What do you say?”

Hermione’s face had lit up like the Weasleys’ Christmas tree, her eyes sparkling. 

“Of course we will! We’ve been waiting for you to ask us! I even brought my whole trunk home for Christmas just in case. Thank you, Harry.” And once again she threw her arms around him. 

The pair talked for a few more minutes. It was decided that Ron and Hermione would stay at Grimmauld Place overnight and meet with Snape in the morning, before flooing back to The Burrow and breaking yet more bad news to Mrs Weasley. Harry had flirted with the idea of not telling Molly exactly where they were, even letting her think the pair had returned to Hogwarts, but Hermione looked scandalised. Harry also expressed concern that they had made the plans and not involved Ron or asked his opinion, but Hermione said Ron would be so excited that he wouldn’t mind what plans the couple had made in his absence. Harry was just beginning to wonder how Ron and Draco were getting on when he heard raised voices coming from the kitchen. He sighed and looked at Hermione, who nodded, and they both went to check on their boyfriends. 

Harry had laid one hand on the door and was just about to open it when Ron’s angry voice yelled the words, “Fucking cocksucker!” loud enough to fill the whole hallway. Hermione winced and Harry flushed as he pushed open the door, grateful that Snape had decided to stay in his room for the duration of Ron and Hermione’s visit. 

Draco was smirking, leaning casually against the work surface, his arms folded nonchalantly in front of him whilst his left leg crossed his right at the ankles. He looked up when Harry and Hermione walked in and caught Harry’s eyes. Harry noticed a mischievous shine to them. 

“Of course I’m a cocksucker, Weasley. I’m in a homosexual relationship. And Harry here loves every second of it. But if you want to be pedantic about it, it’s Harry who’s the most recent cocksucker of the pair of us. He sucked me off magnificently in the shower the morning. Of course that was after he had fucked me hard in our bed. The shower was necessary to clean us both up.”

“Draco!” Harry yelled, and he smacked Draco’s arm, his face crimson with embarrassment, as Ron made a choking noise and Hermione’s jaw dropped.

The room was silent for a time. Harry’s face was still burning with mortification, Ron looked sick, Hermione as if she was about to burst into nervous giggles, and Draco looked smug.

“So!” said Hermione with a false gaiety to her voice, in an obviously desperate attempt to change the subject. “Um, Ron, Harry’s finally asked us to leave Hogwarts move in with him! Isn’t that brilliant! He’s letting us stay here tonight then we’ll talk to your mum tomorrow!”

“I want to move in, Harry, but live with him? I don’t know if I can do it,” Ron replied. 

“Fucking hell, Weasel, what will it take to prove to you I’m loyal to Harry? That I _love_ him, for Merlin’s sake?” Draco snapped, his bravado forgotten. 

“Show him your Patronus,” Harry said quietly.

“ _You_ can produce a Patronus?” Ron asked, surprised. 

“I taught him,” Harry answered for Draco. “Look, it’s a lovely clear night. Let’s go into the garden. Patronuses look better in starlight. Please, Draco, for me.”

Once the four were assembled Harry returned Draco and Ron’s wands to them. Draco raised his wand.

“Is it a ferret?” Ron mocked, and Draco quickly lowered his wand again, glaring at the redhead, but otherwise giving no acknowledgement he’d heard him.He raised his wand once more, focussing on the moment in Paris when Harry told him he was in love with him.

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

The huge lion erupted from Draco’s wand, charged round the garden then returned to Draco. He heard a gasp behind him which he thought was Granger. He turned round to reveal a beaming Harry and an astounded Weasel. 

“Oh, Draco, it’s beautiful” said Hermione, and extended an arm towards the lion as if to pet it. “It’s Harry, isn’t it? Harry’s stag represents his father, and this lion represents him. You really do love him, don’t you.”

Ron recovered from his shock and schooled his features into a sneer, ignoring his girlfriend’s words. 

“Bad old Pure-blood Malfoy needs the Gryffindor half-blood to protect him does he? You really are a cowardly snake.” Draco knew he shouldn’t rise to the bait, but he did.

“And what’s yours? A Weasel? A slug? A fucking great twat?”

Ron’s ears burned and he raised his wand. Harry initially thought Ron was going to hex Draco and was ready to cast a Shield Charm until he heard Ron also cast a Patronus. The Jack Russell terrier shot out of the wand, its tail wagging excitedly. 

“Oh, that’s impressive,” Draco drawled sarcastically. “What’s that going to do to the Dementors? Bite their ankles? Cock a leg and piss on them?”

Ron really did train his wand on Draco then and Harry and Hermione both yelled, “ _Protego!”_ at the same time. Ron’s hex bounced off the double shield and rebounded, narrowly missing him, causing Draco to laugh.

Harry could feel his temper breaking but it was actually Hermione who yelled first. 

“You complete and utter pair of moronic _children_!” she shrieked. “Ronald, Draco clearly loves Harry. They’ve put the past behind them. Do the same. Focus on what he has achieved recently, and acknowledge his role in bringing down Voldemort! Draco, do you feel threatened by Ron or something? You’re acting like the jealous lover. Ron is Harry’s best friend but he _loves_ you. All Ron has ever been is a good and loyal friend to Harry, and you should respect their friendship even if you don’t like him. Now, it’s not exactly late but let’s all go up to bed. Ron, we’ve got both your mother and Professor Snape to deal with in the morning. Harry, I’m assuming Ron and I will be sharing? The room I had back just before fifth year okay still?”

Harry nodded numbly. Was Draco really jealous of Ron? Harry had never looked at Ron once that way, in fact the whole idea was just… _no, don’t even think about it, mental scars,_ Harry scorned himself. The four walked up to the floor where both their rooms were located, which was one up from Snape’s and Tonks and Lupin’s, and wished each other a good night and a final Merry Christmas. Even Ron and Draco managed to speak to each other with an ounce of manners and wish each other a formal ‘good evening’. 

****

“You’re not jealous of Ron, are you?” Harry asked, once he and Draco were both in bed and they were ready for sleep. He felt Draco stiffen next to him and realised with a start that Hermione had been most perceptive once again. 

“Not in the way Granger made it out,” Draco replied. “I know that you don’t think of him in ‘that’ way at all. But of course I’m envious of your closeness. He’s been the closest male to you throughout your life really. And we wasted so much time at each other’s throats. I guess I’d just like to have had more than the five months we’ve had so far, so you’d feel that close to me, too.”

Harry leant forwards and kissed Draco deeply. When they separated he smiled down into the slightly dazed face of his lover. 

“Ron may be my best friend, and has known me well for longer than you. But you’re my boyfriend, the love of my life. I feel closer to you than I have ever felt to anyone else ever. I do love Ron and Hermione, but I’m in love with you.”

He once more took Draco’s mouth in his, and the marginally chaste kiss soon became heated. It was if they’d not been together for weeks rather than hours; both boys’ bodies reacted to the kiss and clothes were hastily discarded. So lost in the moment were they that, for once, they forgot the Silencing Charm.

****

“I could get used to this,” Ron grinned suggestively as he watched his girlfriend undressing for bed. “You, me, one bed, waking up together.”

Hermione smiled and slipped in next to Ron, wearing an almost indecent lace nightie borrowed from Tonks that no longer fit over her baby bump, which Ron seemed to appreciate _very_ much. 

“You and Malfoy are going to have to stop fighting. For Harry’s sake,” she said, as she nestled into the crook of Ron’s arm. “Even you must be able to see that he does love Harry. And, admit it, you’ve never seen Harry happier.”

“No. No I haven’t,” Ron conceded. He stroked the side of Hermione’s face, before drawing her mouth close to his, where he captured it with his lips. He was beginning to feel the stirrings of arousal, when a sudden, ‘Oh Circe!’ in Harry’s voice filled their room, instantly replaced by the rhythmic thudding of a headboard banging against their party wall. 

The image of where a part of his best friend might currently be located, or what he might currently be receiving, was enough to kill the erection that had begun to stir in Ron’s groin, even when Hermione hastily cast a Silencing Charm of her own, instantly cutting the sound. 

“Malfoy really isn’t going to go away, is he?” Ron said sadly, the realisation that, like it or not, Draco bloody Malfoy was now a large part of his life crashing over him like a whack on the head from a club being wielded by a troll as he extinguished the lamps with his wand and began to fall into an uneasy sleep. 


	13. Godric's Hollow

The Boxing Day meeting between Snape and Hermione and Ron had gone well, in Harry’s opinion; Hermione offered nervous giggles and gushing apologies whilst Ron was mainly silent, giving an occasional nod of the head to convey his attention. Severus, for his part, was cordial to his new house guests. Privately he shared the same opinion as Draco; Granger was an asset; Weasley a potential liability, and had agreed to Harry’s plans purely for Harry’s sake. However to Ron’s credit he listened intently to his former Potions Master, and by the end of the meeting both understood fully Harry’s reasons for trusting the man. Harry was immensely relieved that his best friends and Severus were able to work together. It was one load off his mind.

Which was a good thing, Harry mused, as he was by now quite sure he was very much unwelcome in the Weasley household. Ginny had refused to see Harry when he had returned to The Burrow on Boxing Day with Ron and Hermione to discuss leaving Hogwarts and collect their belongings; she had, however, sent him an owl two days afterwards saying she was hurt and wished Harry had told her sooner so she wasn’t left with false hope, but otherwise saying that in time she thought they would be able to repair their friendship. She also said she didn’t blame him for anything and she understood, and apologising for her mum’s behaviour. The twins had been their usual selves when Harry visited, acting like Harry’s sexuality was one big joke and making bad puns, usually involving some variant of the ‘Boy Who Lived.’ Arthur didn’t seem to know what to say to him, other than offer a nervous hand-shake and show him an electric kettle he was given for Christmas. Molly Weasley, however, was not known for holding back her views and lectured Harry for a full twenty minutes on ‘morality’ and ‘decency’ and how Harry had ‘broken my little girl’s heart.’ 

When Ron finally broke the news that he and Hermione were leaving school and moving in with Harry, the woman nearly hit the roof, yelling, and forbidding (at which point Ron promptly reminded her that he was of age and it wasn’t up to her any longer), before finally collapsing, defeated, into an armchair. She turned her anger towards Harry and gave him a venomous glare. 

“Your parents would be ashamed if they could see the man you’ve become, Harry Potter,” she said spitefully. Harry’s eyes widened and he felt the corners of his eyes prickle, before Ron exploded at his mother and Hermione’s arms were suddenly vice-like tight around Harry’s waist. Hermione had steered Harry quickly out of the living room then and the pair packed in silence, listening to the argument below. 

“How dare you say those things to Harry,” Ron said to his mother, in a tone he couldn’t ever remember using with her before. “He is brave and good and always trying to please everyone and risking his life to vanquish You-Know-Who. He’s doing everything he bloody well can and I will not have you speak to him like that. We’re moving in to _help_ him win this war, Mum, and you’re acting as if we’ve all decided to live together in some kind of sexually deviant triad or something!” Molly winced and opened her mouth to protest but Ron wasn’t done. 

“He’s my best mate, _the_ best mate I could ever have. I don’t care if he’s gay! And I will not have you upsetting him. He’s doing the best he can!” Ron yelled, as Mrs Weasley turned scarlet. “I know you’re disappointed you won’t be getting _The Chosen One_ as a son-in law now but you are just going to have to get over that. Don’t take your disappointment out on him. And you owe Harry a huge apology because what you said to him about his mum and dad was absolutely hateful.” At that moment a shaken Harry and Hermione returned to the living room with Ron and Hermione’s belongings. Ron gave Harry a supportive smile before turning back to Mrs Weasley. “My birthday is in just over two months. That’s plenty time to come up with something good in way of an apology.”And with a final look of disgust at his mother and not so much as a goodbye, Ron picked his school trunk up by the handle, hauled it into the fireplace, threw a handful of Floo powder into the flames and disappeared. Hermione followed, leaving Harry and Mrs Weasley alone. 

“Harry, dear, I…” she began, but Harry pushed past her without looking at her and stepped into the fire, shouting, “Grimmauld Place!” loudly as The Burrow and Molly Weasley disappeared. Harry stepped out of the fire and immediately shut off the Floo, then all but ran to his bedroom looking for Draco, leaving Ron and Hermione standing in an uncomfortable silence in the large drawing room. 

****

That had been three weeks ago. It was now mid-January, and Harry was sitting at the kitchen table with the others, all desperately trying to come up with a new plan in yet another meeting. 

“There is one area I’d like to try eventually, but we’ll need to research it much more before we can search it,” Hermione said to the table. “I remember the Sorting Hat, singing about Salazar Slytherin and the Fens during one of the welcoming feasts, and I was wondering if he was from that area. I’m sure Voldemort would have wanted to hide a Horcrux at the birthplace of Slytherin.”

“Do you remember everything, Granger?” Draco asked with what Harry thought sounded like grudging admiration. He and Ron laughed. “Yes,” they answered in unison.

“Why can’t we go now? To this Fens place?” asked Ron. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Because, Mr Weasley, The Fens isn’t a place, it’s a region, and a rather large one at that. Theycover just about the whole of the east of England. Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire and Norfolk to be exact. That’s an area bigger than some countries. We can’t just go and search three whole counties blindly, we need some sort of a lead,” Snape replied.

“That sounds really promising,” said Harry quickly, before Ron could retort and an argument erupt. “But, er, whilst we’re researching that area more, I, um, I want to go to Godric’s Hollow.”

Four heads bared identical expressions of incredulity; Remus (who looked tired and pale from the full moon two nights’ previously) being the only one not staring at him as if he was crazy. Harry noticed Snape’s normally pallid skin had paled even further.

“What?” Harry said, somewhat angrily. “There’s a good chance something is there! Birthplace of The Chosen One? Come on, surely this is significant enough for him to want to hide a Horcrux? Had his plans worked and he killed me this would have been the place where he finally destroyed the only chance of someone defeating him. I’d say he saw Godric’s Hollow as an ideal location for one of these bloody things.”

Draco reached over and took his hand, to which Ron only made a small noise of protest. “Harry, we’ve been over this. Voldemort is sadistic, and evil, but he’s also clever. He’ll know you’re not at school by now and are off on some mission. He’ll expect you to pitch up there sooner or later. What if he’s set traps for us, or warded the place which we’ll trigger the minute we Apparate in?”

“We’ll have to risk it,” Harry replied stubbornly. “It’s been far too long with no progress. Paris was months ago now and as you say we can’t search three whole counties without at least know the general area we should be searching. This is the only thing we have to go on right now. We need to do this.”

“I think Harry is right,” Remus said from the opposite end of the table. “The location is possible at worst, promising at best. Godric Gryffindor also came from there- the village is named after him. There is a good chance Voldemort would have considered the location ideal. We’d be idiots to at least not search.” But there was a knowing glint in his eyes as he caught the emerald orbs of Harry’s, which clearly communicated that Remus, at least, was not fooled. He knew Harry needed to go home. Gratitude rushed through Harry as he mouthed a silent ‘thank you’, knowing that the place held memories for Remus, too. 

“Fine then,” Hermione replied, somewhat sharply but not unkindly. “We’ll go, but, Harry, can you please at least agree that we make a start on this research before we go?” Harry nodded his agreement. Hermione smiled at him and continued talking. “But that still leaves the problem of how we actually research Salazar Slytherin. I’ve checked the entire library both at Hogwarts and here and there’s nothing. Other than what’s in _Hogwarts: a History_ there is nothing published on the man or his life anywhere.” Harry could hear her disappointment at the library’s apparent failure in her voice and smiled slightly. 

“That’s because Slytherin didn’t want just anybody to be able to read about his life. Only those he deemed worthy were to be granted the honour,” Draco replied. “His life is documented in only one tome that I’m aware of, and to which only a pure-blood Slytherin can access. If a half-blood or Muggle-born, or anyone from the other three houses tries to touch the book then it curses them. And most of it is written in Ancient Runes. Nearly all the oldest pure-blood Slytherin families own a copy. I’m surprised there isn’t a copy here actually, as Sirius was the only non-Slytherin member of the Black family. There is a copy at Malfoy Manor. I’ve never even seen the book; it’s traditional in our family for the heir to study the book in the summer after we come of age. Father was expecting me to educate myself from the text this summer but, well, we all know how that ended.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Harry replied sarcastically, before offering an apology to Remus and Severus for his language. “Yet another bloody thing we have to find.”

“We could always take the copy from the Manor,” Draco said. “Or, rather, I could, considering no one else here could touch it. But it wouldn’t be like the time we took the locket. The library is located next to the main drawing room which is where Voldemort is residing. We cannot sneak in undetected this time, and then I’d have to search manually for it as it has anti-summoning charms on it. Even in the middle of the night we’d be lucky to not be seen.”

Harry was just about to despair, or start coming up with a plan to get in, when another idea occurred to him. Hermione was going to hate it, probably even yell at him for it, but it was the only way… he promptly called, “Kreacher!” which startled everyone and the house elf appeared in front of him.

“Master called?” Kreacher said to Harry, then he surveyed the occupants of the table. “And Master has moved the blood traitor and the Mudblood in too, Mistress will be disgusted to have such filth in such a noble house, oh yes. I see the Malfoy heir is sitting with master as if he is a friend. Kreacher is worrying about the esteemed heir’s sanity.”

Harry ignored him. “Kreacher, I command you to return to Hogwarts and ask Dobby to come and speak with me.”

“Kreacher must do what the half-blood brat says. Kreacher must ask the traitorous elf to come into a house he’s not fit to set foot in because Master has instructed me,” Kreacher replied, before disapparating with a loud _pop_. Hermione, predictably, narrowed her eyes. 

“What are you playing at, Harry?” She asked. Harry didn’t get a chance to reply before Kreacher reappeared with Dobby, who was beaming at Harry.

“Kreacher, leave us- return to Hogwarts, and you are forbidden to mention any of this to anybody. Through words or gestures. Including writing. You are to remain silent on the issue,” Harry ordered, and the elf once again Disapparated, a look of loathing on his features. Dobby was almost hopping with glee.

“Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is so happy to see Harry Potter! And Harry Potter’s friends! How can Dobby help Harry Potter?”

Harry smiled fondly at the elf. “Dobby, I have a favour to ask of you. This is not an order, it’s a request. You are free to refuse, and if you do refuse I forbid you to punish yourself in any way for it. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, of course! But why would Dobby refuse? Dobby would do anything for Harry Potter, sir!”

Harry was aware of Draco next to him, torn between amusement at the elf practically fawning over him and disgust. 

“Dobby, the favour I need to ask could be dangerous. I need to you to enter Malfoy Manor and retrieve a book.” 

“Enter Dobby’s old Master’s house? Dobby can do that for Harry Potter!”

“Harry! You can’t do this!” Hermione said desperately. Harry gave her a small smile. 

“Voldemort and the Death Eaters won’t know one house-elf from another. If they see Dobby in there they’ll think he’s just one of the Manor’s elves gone in to clean. He can grab the book and Apparate through the wards. And he is free to refuse.”

“And Dobby can touch the book,” Draco said, correctly interpreting Hermione’s open mouth as she began to argue another point. “It won’t hurt him. House-elf magic has to allow them to touch artefacts that may be cursed to non-family members ,in order to clean, as so many of the older pure-blood families have such artefacts. And Dobby is the one with the best knowledge of the Manor’s layout so has the best chance of success. Besides I don’t trust Kreacher. He’s found a way to betray his master before and he could do it again, and this time it would be to Voldemort. I think Harry’s had a brilliant idea here.” This was met with nodding from everyone else around the table, and Hermione reluctantly conceded. 

Draco explained the book to Dobby who, to everyone’s relief, remembered vividly and knew its location in the library. He gave a bow to Harry, and Disapparated. 

“So that’s my father’s old elf,” Draco said sardonically. “He’s a bloody odd little thing isn’t he?”

Not even five minutes later the elf returned, book in hand. Draco took the book from him and laid it on the table.

“Thank you, Dobby, you’ve done brilliantly!” Harry beamed. “And, um, it was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be.” Dobby gave a wide smile, and, after making Harry promise to call him for anything else he may need, returned to Hogwarts. Draco immediately pulled out his wand and cast _Geminio_ on the book, then again, passing one copy to Snape and another to Hermione. 

“This version won’t be cursed,” he assured the others as Hermione accepted her copy hungrily, tracing a finger across the complex rune patterns on the leather cover.

“Where’s mine?” Harry asked, half-joking. Draco sneered but looked at Harry fondly. 

“Yes, because you’re going to be helpful with the research, aren’t you, Mr expert-rune-interpreter?” He missed the flattered look Hermione gave him, but Harry didn’t, and he knew, in that moment, that Draco’s act of so casually allowing her access to the prized and treasured secrets of Salazar Slytherin and believing she was good enough to help with the translations had meant Draco had gone up a lot of notches in her estimation. 

“Well, we’ve got the books,” Harry said. “We’ll go to Godric’s Hollow on Friday.” And with that he sat back in his chair, excited yet terrified to be returning home in two days’ time, to the place of the macabre scene of sixteen years ago.

****

The night before the planned trip Harry and Snape had a falling out. Snape had informed Harry that he had no intention of visiting Godric’s Hollow, but refused to give a reason why. Harry noticed the man was even paler than usual, and had been very quiet since the trip had first been proposed, but he didn’t know why Severus wouldn’t accompany him. He was sure it wasn’t fear of traps, but what it actually was, Harry had no idea. When Harry had pushed the issue Snape had simply walked out of the room. He didn’t rise to see them all off in the morning either. 

The group had decided to use glamours rather than Polyjuice. Harry had not wanted to visit the village impersonating someone else; it didn’t feel right to him. Hermione and Remus had cast the charms and the five of them were different enough to not be immediately recognised, but not so different Harry felt like an imposter. Remus supplied them with Apparition co-ordinates and they Apparated to Godric’s Hollow. 

Harry’s initial impression of the village was that it looked like something from a Muggle Christmas card, and was brimming with character. The buildings were detached, with wooden beams and thatched roofs, small puffs of smoke flowing from the chimneys. Although there was no snow, there was a thick frost which had not yet melted in the weak January sunlight; it sparkled like crystals, reflecting the light in a beautiful rainbow of colours. There were a scattering of shops- the butchers, the bakers, the greengrocers, and a local pub called The Apple and Cider, which Harry thought was rather typical for the West Country. There was a traditional post-office with overhanging plants framing the doorway and windows which would no doubt be covered in vibrant flowers in spring, with a post-box outside that still had a Georgian ‘GR’ on the front, and an old-fashioned red phone box with a black rotary telephone. The paths were cobbled and the roads empty of traffic. Harry instantly fell in love with the village; it was so quaint, so beautiful and so peaceful. Yet he also knew it held horror, and he couldn’t focus on the beauty of the Muggle part of the village for long; he was here for a reason. 

It was obvious when they had entered the wizarding area of the village. The few Muggles that had been out early shopping paid this part of the village no notice, and Harry was certain that he, Remus, Draco, Hermione and Ron were the only ones in the vicinity that could see this small row of slightly abstract-looking, disjointed houses, some of which had green or pink smoke emanating from their chimneys. There were also a few wizarding shops- a small apothecary, a robe shop and what looked like a chain of Honeydukes. Harry felt a stab of longing in his chest as he gazed around him, Draco’s hand tightly clenched in his. Remus was paying no notice to the village, however, but was searching for traces of wards or traps. So far he had detected nothing, much to the others’ relief.

Remus came up and stood beside Harry, putting an arm around him. 

“Harry, your parents… they’re in there,” he said, gesturing with his hand, his voice as soft and as tender as Harry had ever heard as Remus’ grip on him intensified, as did the squeeze from Draco’s hand on his.

Harry’s head whirled round and for the first time he noticed a tiny churchyard located behind a row of yew trees. He felt the colour drain from his face and a lump rise in his throat, but nodded mutely, letting go of Draco’s hand and crossed the cobbled road to the iron gate as if on autopilot. 

The others made to follow him but Harry held up a hand.

“Please,” he said, aware his voice was barely more than a whisper. “I need to do this alone. Remus, just you. You can show me where they are.” He turned his attention to Draco. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

Draco crossed to Harry and planted a kiss on his forehead. 

“I’ll be waiting here when you come back,” he said quietly. Harry gave him a grateful smile and pushed open the iron gate, and entered the churchyard.

Remus led him through the short grassy path, to the far right of the churchyard. There was a tidy, if bare, headstone, in a grey marble. Harry looked at Remus and he simply nodded, staying where he was whilst Harry edged nearer. When he was about twenty feet away he could make out the writing on the stone. 

_James Potter, 27 th March 1960- 31st October 1981. And his beloved wife, Lily Potter, 30th January 1960- 31st October 1981._

_They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill what never dies._

Hot tears fell down Harry’s cheeks and he wiped them away irritably, refusing to break down. There, in thick black letters was proof. His parents had died for their love of him. Everything came back to love. He sank to his knees on top of the grave, his fingers reaching out to trace the lettering on the stone. He idly thought over all those things he’d never thought to ask before. Who had arranged the funeral? Chosen the words for the headstone? Who had paid their respects? Where had the gold come from to pay for everything? Anything, other than having to think about the fact this was the closest he had been to his parents in over sixteen years, and they were lying, dead, cold, and oblivious just feet below him. He was still fighting the tears. 

“Remus,” he said calmly, in a normal speaking voice but the yard was so silent his voice travelled easily, his face never leaving the headstone. “Do you think my mum and dad would have been ashamed of me?”

Remus was at his side in an instant.

“Why on Earth would you think that, Harry?” he said, before thinking back to Christmas Day, then how Harry had returned so upset from The Burrow the following evening. “Ah, I see. Is that what Molly Weasley said to you?” Harry said nothing but nodded his head, sniffing deeply. Remus swore under his breath, mentally making a note to have a little talk with the woman as soon as possible.

“Harry, your mum and dad were always so supportive of Sirius and me. Any time we faced any negativity or bigotry your dad would threaten to ‘hex their homophobic arses off’. They might have been shocked with your choice of partner, as we all were to begin with, but they’d have seen very quickly how much Draco loves you. They would not have minded at all that you prefer men to women, and they certainly would never have been ashamed of you. You have my word as a wizard on that.”

Harry just stood still, giving no indication he’d heard, but when he felt the tentative touch of Remus’ arm on his shoulders once more he turned into the embrace, burying his head into the man’s shoulder, hugging him tightly, and receiving a tight hug in return. Minutes later they broke apart.

“I’m going to get the bastard you know,” Harry said, determination in his voice. “He took all this from me. I’m going to make him pay.”

“I know you will, kiddo, it’s never been in doubt,” said Remus in reply. 

****

When Harry had asked Draco to stay behind, it had hurt. But Draco understood. However it meant he was left alone with Weasel and Granger. He figured he should probably try and clear the air a bit. Maybe it would be easier when they didn’t look completely like themselves. It would also stop him acting in a very un-Malfoyish manner and go tearing into the cemetery after Harry. But to his amazement it was Weasley who spoke first. 

“Malfoy,” he said, without heat. “I, er, I still don’t like that you’re with Harry, but I’m not blind. We’ll probably never get on and be friends, but I know you care for Harry.” Draco raised one eyebrow, Hermione whacked him on the arm, and Ron thought he might as well do the whole thing properly. “Okay, fine, I know you love him. And he obviously loves you. Very much. And whatever’s happened before between us, I know that we’re on the same side now, and you’re not going to turn around and stab Harry in the back and that’s what’s important, not the past. You and Hermione seem able to be civil to each other, and I’d like it if we could be the same.” And he held out his right hand. 

Draco stared at it, not really wanting to take it, but knowing it would make Harry happy, and they did have to work together now, after all. Plus Draco was grudgingly grateful for the way Ron defended Harry to his hag of a mother. He extended his own arm and shook his hand. 

“A truce then,” he said. Both men broke the handshake as soon as was polite to do so, Hermione looking on approvingly at the two.

Harry and Remus exited the cemetery a few minutes after this. All three practically ran to Harry, hugging him tightly. Harry hugged them all back before breaking away, giving a shaky laugh and assuring them he was fine. 

Just then Remus spoke up. He looked sombre.

“Harry, I’ve tried every spell I knew, and every spell Severus taught me, to detect Dark Magic. I’m sorry, I really don’t think there is a Horcrux hidden here. I’d have detected a trace of it by now I think. I will of course check the house but I believe we have been unlucky this time.”

Harry physically deflated, but assured Remus it was okay, it was worth a shot, they still had a lead with the Fens, and today was important to him still and he didn’t regret coming. He also made it clear he still wanted to visit the house, and shouted down Hermione who opened her mouth as if to protest. Harry knew this was going to be hard- way, way harder than visiting his parents’ grave, but he just really felt the need to do it. He needed to see the house in which he was born, his first home. Where he had a family of his own. It was something Draco had not understood when Harry told him Wednesday night of his desire to visit, but had given him his full support. He summoned every single ounce of his Gryffindor courage and followed Remus down the street.

The Potter house was at the end of the row of wizarding cottages. Harry had wondered whether the Fidelius Charm on the property would mean he wouldn’t be able to see it. However Voldemort must have broken the Charm, or the Fidelius breaks automatically when its subjects die as he could see it plain as day, and, Harry assessed after a quick look, so could the others. 

He’d expected the house to be in ruins, or at least in a dilapidated condition. However, apart from a very overgrown garden, the house appeared relatively normal, if neglected. Harry realised that sixteen years ago the dwelling would have been a very pretty cottage indeed. He fleetingly saw in his mind’s eye his mother in the garden on a summer’s day, in dungarees and a large straw hat, gardening, whilst a year old Harry clumsily toddled around near her. Suddenly it all became very real. He was looking at his home, the place where he had parents, had been happy. The building which had been the setting the destruction of it. Harry paled and leant forwards, holding the moss-strewn wall for support, which was replaced almost immediately by Draco’s arm.

“Are you sure you wish to enter?” Remus once more asked Harry gently. For a second Harry wanted to say, no, of course he wasn’t ready, and Disapparate away immediately. Instead his mouth automatically formed the word ‘yes’, and he began to walk up the overgrown stone path leading to the front door, which was on the side of the cottage.

The change of angle revealed what couldn’t be seen from the street; simultaneous gasps from everyone except Remus carried through the chilly air as the upstairs of the back of house was revealed. The roof and entire back wall of what must have been the upstairs bedroom had been obliterated, leaving a huge gaping hole. 

Hands shaking, Harry pushed open the front door. He was unsurprised to find the door unlocked. He stepped over the threshold, Draco’s arm securely round his shoulders, and stood in the hallway. He heard a small cry coming from Hermione but ignored her. 

The hallway was small. The wallpaper, yellowed from age, had a floral pattern, and lead up the stairs to the landing. The carpet was a pale sage, but was covered in a thick layer of dust. A small table by the door contained a glass vase with a thick green layer of algae in the bottom. Harry assumed they contained flowers which had long since decomposed. He knew James Potter had been killed in the downstairs hallway; Harry stared at the floor, wondering where his father had been standing when he died. Harry could hear Ron and Hermione talking in whispers behind him, but he was not listening. He looked over at Lupin; the man was white and also staring at the floor. Harry knew that he, too, was wondering exactly where his best friend had been killed. 

The living room was quite empty, except for a writing desk, some browned parchment and an empty ink bottle. There was also a comfortable-looking sofa, which, Harry noticed with a lurch to his stomach, James’ wand rested upon. James had rushed out to face Voldemort and defend his family and hadn’t even picked up his wand. 

Harry held the length of mahogany in his fingers, before uttering a quick _Lumos_. He smiled mournfully as the wand-tip glowed with light, before wordlessly pocketing the wand in his jeans pocket next to his own holly wand. Forgetting the others were even there, he crossed from the living room into the kitchen. 

A kitchen table. A highchair, a baby’s bib with ‘little Gryffindor’ in gold lettering embroidered on it. A copy of The _Daily Prophet_ date marked the thirty-first of October 1981 laid open in front of one of the dining chairs.A sink and draining board, with two upturned mugs resting upon it. One had a picture of a Snitch, the other a lily. His parents’ favourite mugs. Harry felt his eyes prickle at the sight, before cursing under his breath. _They’re only cups,_ he scorned himself before sweeping out of the kitchen, pointedly refusing to look at his old baby highchair.

Draco, Ron, Hermione and Remus followed Harry up the staircase to the damaged first floor. Harry headed straight for his parents’ bedroom before stepping inside. Hermione started to follow but Remus placed a hand on her arm. 

“Let him be,” he said. Hermione nodded once and held back.

“I’m going in there with him,” Draco said. There was no way he was letting Harry do this alone. He quickly followed Harry into the room, and stopped dead. 

Harry was standing next to a cot, in front of the blown-out wall, a small blue weather-damaged unicorn in his arms which he was hugging tightly to his chest. He was staring at a dressing table next to a large double bed, on top of which was a hairbrush with a few auburn strands of hair entangled in the teeth, a bottle of floral perfume, and some jewellery.He looked at Draco with wide eyes but didn’t speak or move. Draco crossed the room to him instead. 

“Harry,” he said, in a voice so gentle it didn’t sound like his own as he ran a finger over Harry’s cheek, “It’s okay, love, you can be upset.”

Draco’s words seemed to force down some barrier Harry had conjured around himself and Draco watched, helpless, as Harry mentally and physically broke down before him. Harry finally gave in to his grief, sinking to the floor and letting out a wail of mental pain. All Draco could do was hold his boyfriend whilst Harry sobbed uncontrollably, shaking from the effort and the adrenaline flowing through him. 

After many minutes Harry’s sobs became quieter and his breathing evened out. Draco thought for one incredulous moment he’d fallen asleep but Harry was trying to gain some control. 

“I-I’m s-sorry,” he told Draco in shuddering breaths. Draco kissed him. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said. 

He helped Harry collect a few more personal belongings- including Lily’s perfume and jewellery- then he wrapped an arm tightly around him and the pair exited the room, to be greeted by a concerned Remus, Ron and Hermione. 

“Sorry, guys,” Harry said, and received a chorus of ‘Don’t be sorry!’ ‘It’s totally understandable!’ and ‘Anyone would be the same, mate!’ from the trio. Remus caught Draco’s eye and a silent communication went between them. Remus cleared his throat.

“As suspected, there’s no trace of lingering Dark magic here. I think we need to accept that Voldemort has not hidden a Horcrux at Godric’s Hollow.”

Harry nodded. 

“I really need to go home now,” he said, wincing on the word ‘home’. Remus nodded, and the five of them turned on the spot, returning to Grimmauld Place. 

****

“Do you know, no one has ever seen me break down like that. Not really,” Harry said that evening, when he and Draco were in bed. “Remus comforted me the night I rescued you after I killed Rowle but other than that, nothing. Not even Ron and Hermione.” He reached out and wrapped an arm around Draco. “I love you so much, you know.”

“I love you too,” Draco replied, slightly startled by Harry’s revelation. In fact, it made him feel rather honoured that Harry trusted him so much that he allowed Draco to witness him so vulnerable. 

“Do you regret going?” he asked Harry carefully. Harry thought for a long moment. 

“No. I probably should, but I can’t. The village is wonderful, and that was my home. I needed to see it. I didn’t even know what it looked like. Plus I got a few things that belonged to my mum and dad.” Harry’s father’s wand was lying on his bedside table next to his own, and it was James’ wand rather than his providing the light in the room this evening. 

Draco leant over and gave Harry a long, deep but chaste kiss. Neither was in the mood for anything more that night.

“You really did like the village, didn’t you,” Draco said. It wasn’t a question; that much had been obvious to the blond the minute they Apparated in. Harry nodded. “Then how about, when all this shit is over and Voldemort is rotting in his grave, you and I buy a cottage together and live there? If that’s not too weird?”

Harry smiled- the first genuine smile that had crossed his face since they had left the Potter cottage that afternoon. 

“You mean it? We’ll live together?”

Draco laughed. “We already live together, you idiot.”

“Yes, but you know what I mean…”

“I do. Yes, together. Just us, forever.”

“Forever.”

Harry was just drifting off in Draco’s arms when he heard a knock on the door, and Hermione entered. In one hand she was holding Salazar Slytherin’s book, the other a copy of Spellman’s Syllabary. She was beaming.

“I’ve got it!” she said excitedly. “Slytherin’s birthplace! I know where it is!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The verse on the Potters' grave comes from the poem 'Fruits of solitude' by William Penn. I didn't write it.


	14. The Third Horcrux

   
  
---  
  
Draco thought it was typical that it was the Muggle-born Gryffindor rather than the pure-blood Serpent who had discovered the birthplace of the founder of Slytherin house. He would never admit it to anyone other than himself, of course, but he was rather impressed. Harry had, of course, been completely right when he said they needed Hermione; within three weeks of Granger moving in they had a massive lead, one they probably wouldn’t have even had a sniff at without her. The Runes in the tome had been incredibly old and complex; Draco himself had only managed to narrow the area to Cambridgeshire rather than the other counties but Hermione Granger had discovered the location. So it was three days after the trip to Godric’s Hollow that he, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were huddled around a large table in the study, surrounded by literature on Ely, looking for possible Horcrux locations, whilst Remus and Snape were in the city itself trying to detect any traces of known magic that couldn’t be attributed to the magical population who resided there. 

“What I don’t get,” Harry said, putting down the book he was reading and rubbing his eyes under his glasses after many minutes of silent study, “is how Voldemort found Slytherin’s birthplace in the first place, if it’s only ever been printed in some ancient text that only a pure-blooded Slytherin can access.”

Draco gave him a very patronising look. “Could it possibly be because Voldemort is a pure-blooded Slytherin?” he said cockily. Ron and Hermione snorted and Harry’s eyebrows shot almost into his hairline. 

“You mean you didn’t… you think… and he never told… I shouldn’t be surprised, of course he bloody didn’t. Draco, Voldemort is half-blood. His father was a Muggle.”

Draco started at Harry’s face, trying to detect a hint of a smile, or a mischievous glint in his eyes that would show Harry was joking, but found nothing. 

“You’re shitting me, right?” he said eventually. Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Why yes, dear, I am, because you know I have _such_ a sense of humour when it comes to the Dark Lord, don’t I?”

Draco just stared at Harry. _He’s telling the fucking truth. This is just brilliant. Oh, my father will be SO delighted when he finds out he’s been bowing to a half-blood…_

“Voldemort’s birth name is Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Harry explained. “Now, Draco, you’re clever. It’s an anagram. Can you solve it?”

“I am Lord Voldemort,” Draco whispered quietly after a couple of minutes. “Fuck. But how does this prove he’s a half-blood?”

“Tom Riddle senior was his father,” Harry continued. “He was a Muggle. Voldemort’s mother, Merope, used Amortentia to seduce him then eventually marry him. He either became immune to the Potions, or she stopped using them, because either way the effects wore off and he left her, pregnant with Voldemort. Then Merope died giving birth to him and Voldemort was left in the Muggle orphanage in which he was born, not knowing anything about his background in the slightest. When he arrived at Hogwarts he tried to find evidence of his father but there was nothing, and Voldemort realised he must’ve been a Muggle. Do you know Voldemort murdered him? And his own grandparents? He was still in Hogwarts at the time.”

Draco had listened raptly to Harry’s story. It was absurd, yet, it somehow made far too much sense. 

“That is why he hates Muggles,” Harry continued. “Not just because he thinks they’re inferior or whatever, but because of a personal vendetta against them. Because of what his father did to him. He’s completely and utterly fucking insane.”

“I suppose Dumbledore told you all this,” Draco said. “Could this area not be the location of the remaining Horcrux? Why haven’t we been to search? The death of the father he loathed would be significant enough, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re right, it definitely would be, and it was the location for one, but Dumbledore already found the Horcrux there two summers ago, just before our sixth year started. Marvolo was Voldemort’s grandfather’s name, from the now-extinct Gaunt family, and it was only his middle name that allowed Dumbledore to trace his relatives. They descended from Slytherin himself, and it is those genetics that give Voldemort the Parseltongue gene. The Horcrux that cursed Dumbledore was the Gaunt ring. Voldemort framed his uncle, Morfin, for the murder of his father and grandparents then stole the ring. Morfin even confessed and was sentenced Azkaban for it. He died there, believing he was the murderer, whilst Dumbledore fought to get him released.”

Draco was stunned; Ely momentarily forgotten as he lost himself in Harry’s tale. 

“So you can see why I’m surprised he knew the location. He wouldn’t ask the other Death Eaters, as that would be admitting he couldn’t access the book himself and effectively admitting he’s not a pure-blood, so how did he get the information?” Harry was genuinely puzzled by this. 

Surprisingly, at least for Draco anyway, it was Ron who offered the plausible solution.

“Malfoy said he was surprised there wasn’t a copy in the Black library. We know Sirius’ brother was a Death Eater- what if Voldemort made up some story about having lost his own copy or something and Regulus stole the Black copy and gave it to him? Voldemort could easily cast _Geminio_ like Malfoy did to make a copy he could access, or he could have made up a reason why he couldn’t read the text himself. Who knows, it might even be why Regulus became suspicious about the Horcruxes in the first place.” This was met with general astonishment from the other three. “What? I’m not completely thick, you know!”

The conversation drifted back to Ely, and eventually died down altogether as the foursome sank back into their research. 

“He wouldn’t have hidden it actually in the water would he? I mean, we’re not going to have to drain what remains of the fucking fenland, are we?” Draco said eventually. “A few charms could do it, but we’ll have a hell of a time hiding that from the Muggles, and the searching through thick mud would take days.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Harry said. Personally he didn’t think Voldemort would bury one of his precious Horcruxes randomly in marshy water, but he wouldn’t put it past the snake-faced freak. 

“What about Ely Cathedral?” Hermione suggested. “It says in this Muggle guide book that Saint Etheldreda was born in Suffolk but died actually in Ely, and that there is a statue of her inside the church. Saint Etheldreda was the patron saint of throat complaints of all things, and was born to King Anna of East Anglia. She did a lot of good in the Muggle world and there’s even a church named after her here in London.”

“Okay…” said Harry skeptically. “But what has she got to do with Slytherin?”

“Nothing definite that I can find,” Hermione replied, and smiled at the three confused faces looking at her. “But I have found references in _A History of Magic_ here to an  Æthelthryth, who died in June 679 which is the same month and year Saint Etheldreda died. Look at their names! I’m sure this is the same person. And if they are, that means-”

“That this Saint Whatshername was a witch,” Draco finished. He was beginning to get excited. “And this information wasn’t exactly hard to get hold of- some of it is in a Hogwarts text book for fuck’s sake. Voldemort could easily have deciphered this.”

“So, what are we thinking?” Harry said, cautiously optimistic. “Voldemort has placed the cup inside this statue at Ely Cathedral? Because he was honouring a famous witch who died at Slytherin’s birthplace? Well, it makes about as much sense as anything he does, I guess.”

“I’m sure he’d have preferred Slytherin’s actual birthplace, but that would have been eradicated centuries ago,” Hermione replied. “Don’t forget, this was all well over a thousand years ago.”

“My girlfriend is a genius,” Ron smiled proudly, and leant over to kiss her. Draco made fake vomiting actions away from their line of vision, and Harry smacked him on the arm, amused. 

“She really is. I’m so glad you’re both here. And not just because we’ve got a lead,” Harry replied, receiving a massive smile of comradeship from the other two in return. 

The foursome were busy making plans when Snape and Remus returned home. Remus gave them all a quick greeting before going upstairs to see Tonks, who had not been feeling well that morning. 

“We’ve had a degree of success,” Snape informed them all once Remus had left. “Lupin and I have explored the area as thoroughly as is possible during daylight hours in a heavily Muggle-populated area, but we both conclude that there is definite traces of Dark Magic at the-”

“-It’s at the cathedral isn’t it?” Harry interjected, unable to contain his excitement. “Please say it is!”

Snape looked surprised. “Actually, Harry, that is exactly where we detected it.” Harry let out a ‘Whoop!’ and Ron punched the air at this news. “I presume, then, that your afternoon researching has proven fruitful?”

“It was Hermione, of course. It’s always Hermione,” Harry said, his pride in his best friend evident to all whilst Hermione blushed profusely, trying to hide how much the compliment meant to her. He then explained what Hermione had discovered. Her theory, combined with Snape and Remus’ discovery was enough evidence for them to agree that a nocturnal trip to the cathedral was definitely in order, and, thanks to Hermione, they would know exactly where to look. Harry had expressed his concern about causing so much damage to the church, but he knew it was inevitable. Besides, they may be able to repair the majority of the damage, Ron had argued reasonably.

****

Since no one could come up with a better plan than ‘go to Ely Cathedral and don’t get seen by the Muggles whilst desecrating their church,’ it was decided they may as well go as soon as possible, rather than waste time on a plan which probably wouldn’t even pan out anyway. Harry was as close to positive as he could be that they were looking for the cup, but other than that it was impossible to guess what jinxes and curses they would face, and Ron’s advice of ‘making it up as we go along’ was about the best tactic they had. Draco did suggest however they wait until the recent snowfall melted as it would be one less job for them if they didn’t have to remove suspicious-looking footprints leading to the cathedral entrance at two in the morning. 

It was, of course, essential for them to go at night; there was a much lower chance of any Muggle witnesses, and the cathedral would be closed to visitors. The trip was, therefore, planned for the early hours of twenty-fourth of January, weather permitting. 

At precisely five minutes to two in the morning on the twenty-fourth, Snape made a quick Apparition to Ely to make sure the snow had left that area as well, and returned happy to confirm it had. The group performed Disillusionment Charms upon themselves and exited Grimmauld Place, Apparating away. 

They all arrived in the grounds of Ely Cathedral; Snape’s Apparition co-ordinates were spot-on. Harry had never had an appreciation or understanding of Arithmancy before but now he did- Snape had spent a large portion of the previous afternoon ensuring that his co-ordinates were perfect. 

Still under the Disillusionment Charms, the six-strong group walked as silently as they could up the long and narrow path, avoiding the icy patches that the recently melted snow had left behind. Snape withdrew his wand and performed the unlocking charm on the huge doors, which unlocked with a huge ‘clunk’. 

Despite the Muggle trainers they were all wearing for this very reason, the soles of the shoes still echoed around the otherwise silent church, forcing Remus to cast a complex portable Silencing Charm around the group. Harry looked around the church. He hadn’t been to many. Occasionally when he was in primary school he had visited, usually for carols at Christmas or a service at Easter, but other than that he’d never really been inside one. The Dursleys had certainly never taken him. The inside was actually quite beautiful; he looked down the large aisle and saw the High Alter, which was so ornate in gold and jewels that it reminded him of Ravenclaw’s diadem. Even at just past two in the morning the candles were lit, giving an eerie glow to the otherwise dark cathedral. He felt a tug on his arm and the voice that spoke identified it came from Draco. 

“Harry,” the voice said in a hushed whisper. “What’s a raf?” 

“Come again?” Harry replied. Draco led him by the hand to a beautiful stained-glass window and Harry smiled. 

“Draco, it’s not a raf. It’s the RAF, as in Royal Air Force. It’s a branch of Muggle defence where pilots fly aeroplanes to fight enemies. Remember that war I told you about? With Hitler? The RAF did a magnificent job in protecting British shores from invasion. Cambridgeshire has a huge RAF base, so I guess this is just a way of remembering all those who fought- and died- to keep Muggle Britain a free country.” Harry mentally made a vow then and there to give Draco an education in Muggle history as soon as his own war with Voldemort was finally over. 

After another twenty minutes of searching, it was, predictably, Hermione who found the statue of Saint Etheldreda. Snape cast large privacy bubble around it and them all, as well as Muggle-repelling charms, and made to remove his Disillusionment Charm, when something back caught Harry’s eye. 

“Wait!” he said, a little too loudly, and he felt the others jump. “Sorry. It’s just there’s a CCTV camera about a metre above the head of this statue.”

“What’s CCTV?” Remus asked. Thankfully Hermione took charge then, explaining to the others about Muggle video cameras and security. Whilst she was doing this Harry aimed a particularly well-placed _Obscuro_ around the lens of the camera, and proceeded to cast _Muffliato_ to make sure no sound would reach the microphone, as the damned thing was inside their Silencing Charm. 

“Okay. Are you all ready?” Harry asked, once the Disillusionment Charms had been removed from everyone. He pointed his wand at the statue and, sending a silent apology to Saint Etheldreda, the Bishop of Ely, and anyone else who would think this was tantamount to Blasphemy, uttered a confident _Diffindo_ , aimed straight at the centre of the stone. 

Nothing happened. The curse didn’t even leave his wand and the white marble of Etheldreda’s statue remained as intact as it ever was. Harry stared at the statue, confused, and tried a _Reducto_. When this, and indeed a Blasting Curse also failed to have any effect, Harry began to panic. He was aware of the others all trying too, attempting anything from Levitating the statue (Hermione) to a combined Confringo (Severus and Remus). 

“The bastard has warded the statue with charms,” Draco concluded angrily, and Harry felt an uncomfortable sensation, like rocks falling, in his stomach. “Like in Hogwarts, with the anti-Apparition wards. Except this is immune to all magic, not just one or two spells.” 

After twenty minutes of trying to determine the ward in order to break it, the six had to admit that the statue wasn’t going anywhere. Frustration and bitter disappointment burned inside Harry. They had come this far, were almost within touching distance of another Horcrux, and were going to be foiled at the last hurdle.

_Unless…_

Harry smiled to himself and, praying to every deity who may currently be watching their plight that this would work, raised his wand one more time. 

“ _Diffindo!”_ he commanded once more. However he did not cast the spell in Latin; Harry spoke the incantation aloud in Parseltongue. Everyone looked on, amazed, as the spell successfully hit, instantly creating a deep crevice in the statue. 

The fact that the sound of the marble shattering was contained within the small protective ward Remus had created meant the sound thundered through their ears. It sounded like an explosion, and the six all instinctively shielded their faces, although not a single chip of stone had, yet, been broken off. There was, however, a very large crack right down the centre. Harry was half amused to realise the line ran right between Etheldreda’s eyes. When the statue fractured, Voldemort’s charm broke; Remus and Severus both used a Levitating Charm apiece and lifted the two halves of the heavy slab of marble away, revealing a large hole where the statue had stood, and, _yes of course,_ Harry thought wryly, a spiral staircase leading into a pitch-black unknown. 

“I shall enter first, I think,” Snape said as he increased the light on his wand to Maxima and aimed it as the void. The wand-light revealed an oubliette-like pit at the bottom of the staircase, and seemed to be about thirty stairs down. Snape began his descent, followed by Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron, with Remus bringing up the rear. 

The oubliette was small enough to become well-lit with the light from six wands. It did not take Harry long to notice Hufflepuff’s Cup; it sat atop a stone pillar, apparently unprotected, but Harry wasn’t naïve enough to believe Voldemort had left it that vulnerable. He noticed a slight prickle in his scar as he approached the Horcrux but pushed it away. Looking at the others one more time, Harry cautiously reached out a hand and circled his fingers around the cool metal of the cup. 

Instantly a fog clouded his brain, and he immediately dropped the cup back on to its podium. All his senses were dulled; he was aware only of the thickening greyish haze overcoming his brain. He vaguely heard a voice- _Snape, or Snake, something like that,_ a small part of Harry’s mind thought the man might be called, saying words such as ‘Imperius Curse,’‘Occlumency,’and ‘fight it,’ to him. The man then repeated a name over and over again. _Voldemort_. The name sounded familiar to Harry, but at the moment he couldn’t place it. 

An annoying blond man, about his age, was saying words Harry couldn’t make out properly. He was gesturing with his hands and indicating the… cup, was it? Harry thought the man wanted him to pick it back up. But why? What did Harry want with an old cup that looked like some gaudy artefact usually found in a bric-a-brac shop?

The only female amongst them had her wand drawn, and pointing it at the cup, apparently trying to Summon or Levitate it whilst the others continued to talk to him in words he couldn’t hear properly. Harry wished they’d all stop; in reply to the woman’s attempt to steal the cup, he drew his own wand and sent a Stinging Jinx at her, making her yelp and clutch her face, which began to rapidly swell. The redhead who tried to take his wand away was next; a swift Stunning Spell and the man was out cold. He turned his wand on one of the older men and was just about to cast a Hex on him too when he heard a voice, possibly from Blondie, call out, “ _Legilimens!_ ”

_ Harry, fight this!  _ The voice in his head was not his, but there was something comfortingly familiar and… wonderful about it, but Harry didn’t know what. _You can fight off the Imperius Curse, you can beat this too! Come on, Damn it!_

But why? Why fight it? _Because that cup is needed to defeat Voldemort! Harry!_

“Draco?” Harry whispered aloud. That was who the blond was. Draco. He remembered now. The fog tried to entwine itself further into Harry’s mind. It wanted to claim him, consume him. The sense of freedom and carefree was almost overwhelmingly satisfying. Why shouldn’t he let it win? 

_ Because I love you! And because Voldemort cannot be victorious! And he will be if you don’t snap out of this right fucking now! _

The man’s voice was persistent. This Draco person loved him? Harry remembered now, vaguely, fighting a fog similar to this before, although this one was a lot stronger. He remembered being put under the curse by this Voldemort person. Harry didn’t like Voldemort, he remembered now. And that had tried to take away his free will. He hated it when people did that. He had had to throw the previous curse off.

_ If you don’t like it then stop this! That’s what this fog is doing, too! Throw this off as well! _

The fog began to protest whilst it tried to secure its roots further, but Harry had had enough. He wanted self-control back. There was a reason why he’d wanted that cup in the first place. He needed to know why it was so important. With a huge effort of will, Harry forced up his Occlumency shields, halting the mental attack. 

_ Come on, Harry! That’s it, love! Throw it off!  _ And with that, Draco _pushed_.

Memories that Harry shared with Draco flooded his mind. Their first kiss, the way Harry had made the blond feel. The times they had laughed together, or exchanged playful banter. The times they had made gentle love and the times they had simply fucked each other hard. The times they told the other how much they loved them. 

The memories snapped the final strand of control the fog held over Harry. He was Harry Potter, and he _was_ going to return to his own mind. The curse made one final effort to surge deeper into Harry’s mind, but Harry, with the encouragement from Draco, was stronger. 

“NO!”

Harry felt physically weak from exertion as fought the spell and he cried out. He felt Draco’s presence leave him as quickly as it had arrived as he shattered Voldemort’s curse at last with Occlumency, expelling both it and his boyfriend from his mind. His head exploded in pain as he came back to himself but he ignored it. Harry quickly reached out with his hand, grabbed the cup, and then promptly collapsed on all fours, exhausted. 

“I’ve got it,” he said faintly, just before everything swam out of focus. His arms supporting his body buckled and he fell flat to the ground; another couple of seconds and the world went black.

****

When he awoke, Harry was amazed to find himself in his own bed in Grimmauld Place, and it was daylight outside. He tried to sit up in bed but was hit by a jolt of pain surging through his head. 

“Ow,” he said lamely, as someone- Draco, Harry thought- handed Harry his glasses. 

“Here, Harry, drink this,” Snape said, offering Harry a small glass vial. “It’s for your head.”

Harry gratefully downed the Headache Potion and the relief was instantaneous. He realised as he slipped his glasses onto his face that everyone- except Tonks- was crowded around his bedside and he suddenly felt very foolish indeed. 

“What time is it?” he asked. 

“A little after eleven. You’ve been asleep five hours,” Remus replied. That confused Harry. 

“But we arrived at the cathedral nine hours ago! It didn’t take us… hang on, are you saying I was under that curse for longer than I thought?”

Ron gave a small laugh. “How long did you think you were under it for? Harry, mate, it was getting on for three hours. We were getting desperate; we thought you weren’t going to be able to shift it.”

“Three _hours_?” Harry replied, astounded. “It only felt like a few minutes.”He gave Draco a smile and reached out for his hand, then, turning to see Hermione, he gasped when he saw an angry red mark on her swollen cheek. “Oh fuck, Hermione, your face- I’m so-”

“Don’t apologise, Harry!” Hermione cut in. “It was the curse, I know that. It wasn’t you. And the same goes for the Stunner you sent at Ron. We know you weren’t in your right mind.” Harry sent them both a grateful smile, even though he still felt guilty. He had never wanted to hurt his friends. 

“That curse was especially nasty,” Snape said. “I’ve never encountered anything like that before. I believe it was sentient, which made it all the more difficult to beat. It was a lot harder to overcome than even the Imperius Curse, and I am not certain anyone else could have broken it. It was only your fiercely-strong independent mind, combined with Draco’s Legilimency skills which helped you regain some sense of self-identity, that saved you.”

Harry increased the pressure on Draco’s hand. “I didn’t know if I had imagined that,” he said hoarsely. “Draco, your voice, your encouragement and love- it’s the only reason I found the strength to fight it.” Draco gave a slightly smug smile. 

“I told you before. I won’t let him have you.” Harry beamed at his boyfriend and shifted across the bed, indicating for Draco to lie next to him.

“Draco was magnificent,” Hermione said, to general surprise. “He practically jumped in your mind to talk to you. But, Harry! Your Occlumency must have become incredibly strong to break such a heinous curse. You did so well.”

“The cup!” Harry said suddenly. What happened to it?”

“Severus and I destroyed it about an hour ago,” Remus replied. “We believe you broke that curse on it fully, but as it was such a powerful spell we couldn’t take any chances so we destroyed it as soon as we could. The Basilisk venom has put it beyond magical repair and the Horcrux contained in it is destroyed.” 

Harry shut his eyes and breathed deeply. There were only two more to go, then he could go after Voldemort himself. The thought should have been terrifying, but Harry was just overwhelmingly relieved that, one way or another, it was nearly over. 

“I’m surprised that he didn’t hide Slytherin’s locket at his birthplace,” Ron said. “I mean, it would have made sense to have all of his links to Slytherin together, wouldn’t it?”

Harry shook his head. 

“No. That locket was probably the artefact he treasured most of all, a former possession of the one who Voldemort considered to be the ‘greatest of the Hogwarts four.’ When Riddle was taken to the seaside as a child, he discovered the cave the locket was originally hidden in, and tortured two Muggle orphans there. It was the first time he exercised a wizard’s power over Muggles. The first place he terrorised them, tortured them, and put them in their ‘rightful place.’” Harry made air quotes with his fingers at this and made a disgusted face. “I think he would have considered that cave to be the most worthy home for his favourite Horcrux. The place where he discovered a so-called ‘Wizard’s superiority.’ That cave represented power and control, two Slytherin traits Voldemort prizes, and that he would have considered an incredibly fitting location of Slytherin’s locket.”

He finished his mini-lecture and flushed when he realised everyone was gaping at him in silence. He didn’t know whether to feel amused or irritated.

“What?”

“You really do understand him, don’t you, mate?” Ron said. Harry smiled and gave a small nod.

“Dumbledore got a lot wrong. But the one thing he did do right last year was show me the workings of Riddle’s mind. I think that, unfortunately, I understand the bastard quite well, yes.”

Harry was still exhausted from the events that had taken place at Ely Cathedral and found his eyelids drooping whilst the others continued to talk. Yawning, he tried to participate in the conversation the best he could, but it was no good. He needed to sleep. He closed his eyes and curled further into Draco’s arms, head on the blond’s chest. He felt Draco remove his glasses from his face before giving him a quick peck on the forehead, then he slipped back welcomingly into oblivion once more.

****

When Harry awoke again, it was beginning to become dark. His bedroom was filled with a soft ochre light, shining in through the window as the sun began to lower in the sky, beginning its descent into nightfall. He was cold, and realised that he was alone. He also desperately needed to pee. He grabbed his wand and cast a _Tempus_ Charm, revealing it was just after four in the afternoon, before crossing his bedroom and walking into the hall, heading for the toilet. 

After he was done in the bathroom he was about to go downstairs but saw Snape appear, who gestured to him to return to his room. Harry turned direction and followed his former professor, suspecting what this was about. 

Harry re-entered his bedroom and closed the door. 

“Are you well-rested and refreshed, Harry?” Snape asked. Harry confirmed he was. 

“Where are the others?” he enquired, sensing that Snape had wanted to talk to him alone. 

“Lupin is with Tonks at her parents’ house. Miss Granger is in the library, and I do believe Mr. Weasley and Draco are currently locked in a battle of wills over a game of Wizards’ Chess.” Snape’s lip curled. “Apparently, Harry, Mr. Weasley’s animosity towards Draco has softened somewhat since Draco’s involvement in rescuing you from the metaphorical abyss. Draco informed him that seeing him Stupefied by you would have been one of the greatest moments in his life, had he not been so worried about you, to which Mr. Weasley called him a ‘ferret bastard’. He then offered him a handshake, and challenged Draco to a game. He also said that it was nice to finally play someone who had, and I quote, ‘more than a snowball’s chance in Hades’ at beating him.”

Harry chuckled to himself. Ron and Draco were still a long way from being friends, but at least they could act friendly now. In a backwards sort of way. 

“I wanted to discuss purging the fragment of the Dark Lord’s soul from your mind,” Snape continued, and Harry knew he’d guessed right. “And I thought it best to discuss this away from Draco. He has a tendency to react poorly when this topic is discussed. I have the Potion ready, under a Stasis Charm. Just say the word and we’ll proceed with our plans.”

“Not yet. I mean, I need to see Nagini taken care of first,” Harry replied. “Please, Severus, I _have_ to hold on to the Parseltongue. If we’re right I’m going to lose it once that- thing- is out of me. It’s been crucial so far. We’d have gotten nowhere without it; we cannot risk it.”

Snape thought for a long moment. 

“As you wish, Harry,” he said kindly. “Although Nagini, as we know, is not protected with wards or enchantments. But if it makes you feel more confident then we shall attack the Dark Lord’s snake before going for the piece that resides within you. Harry, do you have any plans on how to vanquish Nagini at all?”

_ Yes _ , Harry wanted to say. In fact he had thought of something weeks ago, long before Christmas. But it was too horrible to even contemplate fully at the moment, much less discuss as a probable plan of action. Unless it came down to being the only viable option, he was keeping his idea firmly to himself for the time being. He just hoped something else would turn up. Soon. 

“Not yet. Not really,” Harry replied vaguely, hoping Snape wouldn’t see through the lie. “I mean, I’ve had a few ideas and stuff, but nothing that would actually work.” Snape nodded his head but said nothing. He stood from the end of the bed he had perched on and turned to leave. 

“Are you coming, Harry?” he asked. Harry shook his head. 

“No, I don’t want to watch Draco and Ron fighting over chess. Can you please tell them I’m awake though and come up when they’re done? I think I’ll read for a bit.”

Snape got as far as Harry’s bedside table before he stopped dead, turning his nose and gave several short, sharp intakes of breath though it as if trying to detect the faint traces of a scent. Harry watched, curious, as the little colour that was in the man’s face drained. He walked over to the top of the table and picked up the small glass bottle that was sitting atop of it, picking it up and drawing it up to his nose, where he inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering closed. He let out a deep breath and, Harry noticed, bit hard on a slightly trembling lower lip. 

“Where did you get this?” Severus asked hoarsely. He had still not opened his eyes. 

“Godric’s Hollow,” Harry replied, more confused than ever. What was Snape doing?

“Lily,” was all the older man said, in a tone barely audible, before replacing the bottle on the nightstand with an unsteady hand and leaving the room without so much as a backwards glance. Harry stared at the door for a while, wondering what that had all been about and thinking it was exceptionally odd behaviour. But Harry was determined to find out what, exactly, had just happened. 


	15. Happy Birthday, Ron

The week that followed the destruction of the Horcrux was quiet and uneventful, which suited the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place perfectly after the drama of the previous few days. Snape and Lupin had returned to Ely Cathedral in the middle of the night to repair the statue of Saint Etheldreda and remove the Muggle-Repelling Charms, proclaiming it a full success and leaving no evidence or magical signature behind of their venture. Draco and Ron continued to get on relatively well; Harry noted, with amusement, that wizard’s chess provided a much better outlet for them to express their mutual hostile feelings than hexing the living daylights out of one another. Harry was just glad they had stooped their constant fighting and putting him in the middle of arguments in which he had no interest.

Harry had watched Snape closely, too, for a few days after the incident in Harry’s bedroom, but the older man had given no indications of his bizarre behaviour the previous week, other than a renewed and fierce determination to destroy the snake. His mother’s scent had seemed to act as a catalyst for Snape as he threw himself into research, a hard, resolute expression on his features. Draco had expressed his theory of Snape’s reaction to Harry, causing Harry to wrinkle his eyes in disgust. Still, Harry reasoned, if Draco was correct and Snape had harboured feelings for his mother whilst they were at Hogwarts, then it would at least explain some of the hatred Severus felt towards Harry’s father. However, the whole idea was not one Harry wished to dwell on particularly. 

As the remainder of January slipped away and February arrived, Harry was realising with an unpleasant lurch to the stomach that his idea for killing Nagini was looking more and more like it was going to be the only option they had available to them- more so as February hurtled alarmingly quickly towards March without anyone having any plausible ideas. Harry vowed to give it until the middle of March then, if they still didn’t have a plan, he would voice his. Actually killing the snake wasn’t the biggest problem they faced; as Snape pointed out, it would be relatively easy to sneak into Malfoy Manor under Harry’s Cloak or Disillusionment Charms and slaughter the creature in the dead of night whilst Voldemort slept. The problem lay with how to ensure that Nagini’s death didn’t draw attention to their Horcrux hunt and alert Voldemort- the soul still inside Harry needed destroying before he could even think about going after the Dark Lord, and that would give Voldemort more than enough time to check up on the the hiding places of the other Horcruxes, or create another, should Nagini’s death arouse the Dark Lord’s suspicions as to exactly what Harry had been up to the last few months. 

Harry wished he could take the chance and purge the fragment from his own mind before ambushing Nagini and then just mount an attack on Old Snakeface straight after she was killed, but the risk was too great. If it turned out there was some Parseltongue protection surrounding the beast after he lost the ability to understand it then the repercussions would be catastrophic to their chances of victory in the war. It had to be done in the order Harry planned it. That didn’t mean he had to like it though.

As the first of March approached, however, Harry determinedly pushed thoughts of Horcruxes and evil Dark Lords temporarily from his mind; Ron’s birthday was looming and Harry was determined to celebrate the occasion. Hermione had initially protested, insisting that they couldn’t afford to lose the research time, to which Harry, Ron, and even Draco, vehemently protested against.

“Come on, Hermione,” Harry had reasoned. “It’s been months since we let our hair down and had some fun. It’s only for one day, and we’ll be out in the Muggle world. We all deserve this. Let’s just enjoy ourselves this once.” The ‘ _It could be for the last time’_ went unsaid, but everyone heard it nonetheless. Hermione let out a huge sigh and relented. 

“You’re right,” she conceded. “We’ve earned a day off.”

As the day was to be a Muggle day, Harry and Hermione planned the trip, whist Draco generously offered to fund the whole adventure, thanks to his Gringotts card. Ron stammered his thanks, but Harry bit back a grin. He knew Draco hated being cooped up in the house and would have offered a lot more than to pay for Ron and Hermione in order to get out of Grimmauld Place for the day.

After much discussion, Harry and Hermione settled on a day at Alton Towers, which was somewhere Harry had always wanted to go but obviously was never taken. Harry, remembering Draco’s reaction to riding a simple escalator back in August, secretly couldn’t wait to see the look on Draco’s face when he realised exactly what the place was, and planned to keep it a surprise from him until they arrived. Ron was happy with whatever he and Hermione planned; his only requirement was that in the evening they could ‘go for a meal and get pissed off their arses.’ Harry, who had never been drunk in his life, thought this was a great idea, as did Draco. Until, that was, Harry remembered something. He and Draco were still only seventeen. Draco and Ron had been confused when Harry voiced this, until Hermione explained that Muggles came of age at eighteen, not seventeen, and therefore Harry and Draco wouldn’t legally be allowed to drink in the Muggle world for another few months. 

“How do Muggles prove their age if they’re asked to, in pubs and things?” Draco asked. Hermione told him what forms of identification were acceptable and Draco smirked, left the room, then returned with his and Harry’s forged passports from their trip to Paris. Harry looked on, amused, as Draco took out his wand and added a year to both their dates of birth on the passports. 

“There,” Draco said smugly. “Problem solved.” Harry had to laugh, particularly at the scandalised look on Hermione’s face, but thankfully she kept silent. 

****

On the morning of the First of March, Harry exited the bathroom and returned to his own room to find Draco almost in a state of collapse from silent laughter, tears running down his flushed face, as he rested his head against the party wall between theirs and Ron and Hermione’s room.

“What are you…” Harry began but Draco held up a hand to silence him. 

“You have to come and hear this,” he whispered, hastily beckoning him over with a hand. “Hermione and Weasel forgot their Silencing Charm.”

Harry stared at him in horror. 

“Draco! Are you eavesdropping on them _having sex_?”

“Please, trust me,” Draco said, struggling to keep his composure. “You cannot miss this.”

Harry’s curiosity got the better of him. Feeling like a bastard for listening in on his best friends shagging, but also knowing that Ron and Hermione would not normally be a source of hilarity for his boyfriend, nor would Draco ordinarily wish to listen to them in the throes of passion without good reason, Harry made his way to the wall and took his position next to Draco. 

Oh, was he glad he did. 

All guilty thoughts left his mind in an instant and he stuffed a fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out in laughter and giving them away. 

“That’s it, Hermione, you service my broomstick!” was the first thing Harry heard coming from Ron’s room. He turned to stare at Draco, wide-eyes sparking in shock and amusement, and saw the blond’s head was buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking in laughter, just as Hermione gasped, “I’m your Gryffinwhore, Slytherin me!”

“Granger’s got quite a dirty mouth on her when she’s going at it, doesn’t she?”Draco smirked, his cheeks rosy with glee. “You missed my personal favourite, ‘riding your broomstick in my Chamber of Secrets’. Of course, that came after, ‘perform an Engorgement Charm on my magic wand’, and ‘polish my wood’ from Weasley.”

Harry felt like a voyeuristic traitor but this was far too hilarious to miss. Even so, the moral part of his brain took over and he decided that enough was enough; he’d hate it if Ron and Hermione were doing this to him and Draco. He pressed an ear to the wall a final time, to hear Ron shout out, “Riding high on my broomstick of love,” before deciding his best friend had taken the metaphor as far as he could. He could also hear Ron’s raspy breathing speed up and had absolutely no desire whatsoever to hear his best friend come. Still chuckling but deciding to finally give his friends some privacy, he erected his own Silencing Charm and cut off the sound, much to Draco’s disappointment.

“My poor ears,” Harry said, mouth still tugged up in a grin. “Where the fuck did they get all those? The Big Book of Corny Wizarding Innuendo? I wonder if it was in the Black library?” Draco snorted. 

“Promise me one thing,” he said, wrapping his arms round Harry. “Never, ever speak to me like that when we’re in bed together.”

Harry leant in and kissed Draco deeply. “I promise,” he said when they broke apart. “Um, you’re not going to let Ron know we heard, are you?”

“Course not. Not directly, straight away, anyway. I’m a Slytherin. Discretion is my middle name,” Draco retorted, a wicked glint in his eyes that Harry didn’t fully trust. 

****

Harry thought Ron and Hermione looked flushed and thoroughly shagged when the pair entered the kitchen half an hour later. He wished Ron a happy birthday and poured them both coffee, not quite able to meet their eyes. 

“Hope so anyway, mate,” Ron said cheerfully, pulling a pile of gifts towards him. “Better than my seventeenth birthday, anyway. I mean, last year I nearly died because of that poisoned mead-”

He abruptly stopped talking and flung a hand over his mouth, sending an apologetic look to Harry and Draco. 

“Merlin! Harry, Malfoy, I didn’t mean to drag the past up again. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

Harry chanced a glance at Draco, who had gone a little paler but otherwise gave no indication he had heard Ron. He took the blond’s hand and held it tightly. He knew how much Draco bitterly regretted his behaviour the previous year.

Ron began opening his presents. All was going well until he reached over and picked up the package Harry had left on the table for Ron the previous evening. Suddenly, Harry remembered what he had bought his friend; his cheeks flushed and he stared at the table as Ron tore open the paper and revealed a-

“Wow, a broomstick servicing kit! Thanks Mate!” Ron exclaimed happily, whilst Harry’s face burned and Draco snorted into his coffee.

“You like to get your broomstick serviced a lot nowadays, Weasley?” Draco asked, the epitome of innocence. Ron completely missed the insinuation, but Hermione gave him an odd look. Harry noticed a faint tinge to her cheeks, and vowed to never, no matter how entertaining it may be, to listen in on things that don’t concern him ever again. It just wasn’t worth the self-inflicted guilt trip afterwards.

**** 

Harry had reluctantly agreed to accompany Ron and Hermione to The Burrow early that morning for Ron’s birthday breakfast. It wasn’t a trip he was particularly looking forward to; Christmas was still too fresh in his mind. However Ron was determined that his mother should apologise, and mean it, to his best friend. So it was with a heavy heart that Harry kissed Draco goodbye and Flooed to the Weasleys’ residence. 

Mr Weasley, who hadn’t yet left for work, met Harry and Ron in the living room as they arrived. He greeted his son and wished him a happy birthday, before turning his attention to Harry. He gave Harry a warm, genuine smile and shook his hand thoroughly. The knot in Harry’s chest loosened slightly at this gesture. 

“So good to see you, Harry,” he said kindly. “I can’t stop, I’ve got to be at the Ministry in five minutes- I just wanted to see Ron before I left. And I wanted to apologise to you for what happened over Christmas. I just wanted you to know that I do, and will always, think of you as part of my family, and you’re always welcome in my home. What happened over Christmas has not changed that.”

To Harry’s horror the corners of his eyes prickled and his throat ran dry. He managed to stammer a “Thank you, Arthur,” before entering the kitchen whilst Mr Weasley Flooed to work. Mr Weasley would probably never know just how much those words meant to Harry in that moment. 

Harry had been hoping that the twins were going to be there to help lighten the mood, but evidently Fred and George were busy in their shop this morning; Molly Weasley was alone in the kitchen. She gave Ron a nervous smile when she saw them enter, rushing to embrace her youngest son warmly, before giving Hermione a quick one-armed hug. She then turned her attention on Harry.

“Harry, dear,” she whispered, opening her arms widely for him and smiled fondly. Harry didn’t respond to the invitation. Instead he stood rooted to the spot. Her behaviour was confusing him, to say the least.

“Harry, what was said at Christmas,” Mrs Weasley continued tentatively, obviously deciding to get straight to the point. “I was very wrong to say those things to you. What I said about… about your parents. That was despicable, and I regretted it as soon as I said it. I am so very sorry.” When Harry still didn’t respond, her smile faltered.

“Ronald, dear, there’s cards and presents on the table. Ginny owled hers here for you. Breakfast won’t be long.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione took their seats at the table and Ron opened more presents and cards. When he unwrapped the box of chocolate cauldrons from Ginny, Harry managed to crack a smile and jokingly told Ron to check them thoroughly for Love Potion before he ate them this year. 

Mrs Weasley served breakfast then, and there was silence in the kitchen whilst they all tucked into bacon, eggs, sausage, mushrooms and toast. Harry kept looking up at Molly, desperately wanting to make it up with her but wondering if the apology was honest; Ron had, after all, made it clear that he expected Harry to receive one on his birthday, and Harry wondered if this was all a ploy on Molly’s part to ensure Ron didn’t stay angry with her any longer. 

After breakfast, Ron and Harry washed up by hand.

“Mum’s genuine, you know,” Ron said in a low whisper, as Harry handed him a plate to dry. “I could see the doubt in your face, but honestly, she is sorry. I think Ginny telling her to mind her own business over yours and her relationship helped, too.”

Another awkward half an hour passed before it was time to leave. Hermione and Ron deliberately Flooed ahead, leaving Harry alone with Molly. She touched his arm. 

“Harry, I know I may never fully earn your forgiveness or regain your trust. But please do know, I’m really, very, very sorry. I know my words hurt you. Ronald was absolutely correct with what he said to me. What you said at Christmas was a shock, but that’s not an excuse. And if I could take those words back I would.” She opened her arms once more, repeating her earlier gesture, and this time Harry fell into the familiar embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around his mother-figure. 

“It’s going to take time, Mrs Weasley,” Harry said. “It really was an upsetting thing to say, and you saddened me deeply to be honest. But this is a good start, and in time I know I’ll be able to fully forgive you.”

He bent his head low and kissed Molly on the cheek, before grabbing a handful of Floo powder, throwing it into the fire, and stepping into the emerald flames. He shouted, “Grimmauld Place!” and had just enough time to flash a genuine smile at Mrs Weasley before he Flooed away. 

**** 

As Harry had expected, Draco’s face was a picture when he realised exactly what Alton Towers was. Harry didn’t know what was funnier- the look of outrage, indignation, or fear, when Draco realised that Alton Towers was not, as he had assumed, an ancient castle filled with wondrous history and Medieval artefacts, but a loud and dirty Muggle theme park with rides operated by moronic-looking youths who seemed to be performing some mini-miracle by being able to walk and talk at the same time, and almost certainly had troll blood in them. It was the first day the park had opened for the year after the winter closure, so it was incredibly busy, and the apparatus the Muggles were queuing to use looked incredibly lethal through Draco’s eyes. 

At first he point-blank refused to go on any rides, until Harry did his puppy-dog eyes at him and he relented. Harry chose the log flume in which to take Draco’s Muggle ride virginity; he pointed out to Draco that it would involve them having to sit very close to one another, with Harry stationed between Draco’s legs in their little ‘boat’. Draco thought he could live with that. 

Just as Draco was beginning to become so fed up with queuing that he was contemplating using a Confundus Charm and pushing to the front, it was their turn. Hermione got in the front of the boat, Ron behind her, then Harry, followed by Draco at the rear. Harry was right; they were close, and Draco was sure he wasn’t imagining Harry pushing back into his groin and subtly rotating his hips. Draco rested his hands on Harry’s thighs, absent-mindedly stroking his fingers up and down the denim. He was loath to admit it, but the ride wasn’t bad. It was quite relaxing, travelling along in the stream of water, having his cock pleasantly ground into by Harry whilst enjoying the artificial scenery. And then they turned a corner. 

Draco’s eyes popped and Harry turned to give him a wicked grin as a huge mount with a steep drop- that their boat was heading straight towards- came into view. 

“Hold on tight,” he smirked, and suddenly Draco’s gentle ride became terrifyingly perilous, and the little boat began a steep shuddering climb, which caused Draco to grip onto the sides of the boat until his knuckles turned white. It reached the top, tittered dangerously over the edge for a few seconds, then plummeted full-speed to the bottom. 

Draco shrieked even louder than Hermione and threw his arms around a laughing Harry as the boat hit the water below, sending it splashing over its inhabitants. 

When Draco exited the ride he glared at his boyfriend. 

“This sweater is fucking Cashmere! Do you know what happens to it if it gets wet?”

“Oh lighten up, Malfoy,” Ron chortled as he discreetly cast a drying charm over everyone. “It’s only water. No harm done.”

Draco opened his mouth to protest but Hermione stuck the map of the park under his nose to distract him. 

“You choose the next ride, Draco,” She said. Draco scanned the map. 

“Hex,” he said with a smirk. 

As the four began to make their way to the ride, Draco grabbed Harry’s arm, and the pair dropped into step behind Ron and Hermione. 

“Why the fuck,” he said in a dangerously low voice, “didn’t I see that drop on the water ride whilst we were queuing?” 

It was Harry’s turn to smirk. “A variation on the Notice-Me-Not Charm that Severus and I have been working on,” he replied, completely unabashed. “Every time you glanced at it you were drawn straight away to stare at me and give me your full attention.”

Draco wanted to be angry, but instead he laughed. “I’ve been out-Slytherined by a fucking Gryffindor,” he said, shaking his head. Harry grinned and, taking him by the hand, sped up to catch up to his friends. 

**** 

After Hex, the foursome went on a few more rides- Draco’s confidence growing- before Ron declared that it was time for lunch. Harry and Hermione steered their boyfriends towards the KFC. Harry was confident Ron would like the food, but Draco would hate it, and he was unfortunately not proven wrong. Draco once again refused the fries, but managed to eat a chicken burger, even if he did find it repulsive; he looked on with disgust as Harry tucked into a piece of chicken, grease dripping from the meat down his chin and onto the cardboard tray below. 

Ron seemed to be enjoying his food. In fact, Harry thought, Ron seemed to be having a wonderful birthday. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkled as he embraced every new experience. He had been thrilled by every ride, laughed at screaming Muggles when they were on their rides, and relished in their anonymity. It was perhaps the most care-free Harry had ever seen his best friend, even more than when they played Quidditch together. _No matter what happens with Voldemort from here on in_ , Harry thought, _we have had today. And I’ll treasure this day with the three people I love most in the world for the rest of my life_. 

**** 

After lunch, Harry and Hermione bought candy floss for everyone, and Harry had never wanted a camera so much in his life. Draco and Ron had both been sceptical when Hermione handed them each a stick, but, Harry discovered, Muggle-made sugary products once again proved to be his boyfriend’s Achilles’ Heel. Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater, Slytherin Ice Prince and heir to the Malfoy fortune, was tucking heartily into the fluffy pink treat with an expression of ecstasy on his face, and looked so adorable that Harry wanted to drag him off to a quiet corner and snog him senseless. Harry vowed to examine this moment again in the Pensive Remus had bought him for Christmas in the near future. Probably whilst Draco was present and in one of his ‘pure-blood supremacy’ moods, so Harry could tease him. 

Hermione had spotted a ride called ‘Marauder’s Mayhem’ which Harry decided they all had to ride on just because of the name, and afterwards he wished he hadn’t when his lunch threatened to make a reappearance. In fact, only Ron seemed unaffected by the ride. Hermione was clinging to him in a desperate attempt to remain upright, and Draco had a rather unpleasant grey tinge to his face; his normally pink lips were white and pressed firmly together, his pale eyelids closed as Harry’s hand slipped in his. For once he had no counter argument to Draco’s rant about “stupid fucking Muggle idiots.” Why would anyone find spinning round in two directions at once until they became so dizzy and disorientated they wanted to vomit a pleasant way to spend their leisure time?

Ron was the only one who hadn’t picked a ride yet, and he studied the map for a long time before finally selecting the park’s ghost train, Duel-The Haunted House Strikes Back. Harry enjoyed the spooky walk through the wood to the ride’s entrance, even if a couple of the models that lined the path reminded him horribly of the Inferi he had encountered in the cave the night Dumbledore died. The actual ride was entertaining enough- Harry thought the Muggles had done a passable job of depicting ghosts and other ‘fictional’ figures of horror such as werewolves and vampires, and the models were well-made and quite realistic. To be honest he hadn’t been paying too much attention to the exhibits inside as he and Draco were far too occupied with snogging in the dark, thankful for some ‘alone time’. However the ride took a sudden turn and a hooded figure, clearly designed to scare the Muggles, loomed over them, perhaps two feet from their face, and let out what was obviously meant to be a frightening sound. Harry gasped and looked on in dismay as Draco whimpered, and instantly pulled out his wand, aimed it at the model, and yelled, “ _Reducto!_ ”

The exhibit was obliterated. Harry could hear Hermione’s sharp intake of breath, and Ron mutter, “stupid fucking Malfoy!” from the car behind theirs in the aftermath of the blast. Harry put his head in his hands and sighed. 

“Why,” he said, seething through clenched teeth, “in the name of Merlin did you do that?”

Draco at least had the good grace to look abashed. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “We were kissing so deeply, and I lost myself and forgot where we were for a minute, then that _thing_ just came at us and I panicked. It reminded me of a Death Eater with that cloak and mask. Fuck, did the Muggles see?”

“The people in the car in front of ours did I think,” Harry replied in an angry whisper. “Draco, could we just have _one day_ in the non-magical world without you potentially getting us in trouble with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?”

“You’re a prick, Malfoy,” Ron’s voice unhelpfully called out into the dark, as Hermione cast a very quiet _Reparo_. 

“Fuck you, Weasel,” was Draco’s rather predictable retort. 

As the ride came to an end and they exited their car, Harry could hear the Muggles from the car in front of theirs enthusiastically complimenting the rather bewildered ride operator on the ‘extremely realistic special effects’ during the ride. He couldn’t help but let out a relieved chuckle. _No harm, no foul,_ he thought to himself, although, if truth be told, that had been too bloody close. Draco Malfoy and Muggles just weren’t a compatible combination. 

After the Duel Incident, the foursome’s enthusiasm for rides had somewhat diminished. Ron insisted on riding Nemesis- a rollercoaster in which the riders were suspended from above- before they left, which he and Harry had a go on (Hermione and Draco point-blank refusing) after which they decided to call it a day. It was getting on for closing time in the park anyway, and Hermione had made reservations for the four of them to eat at the exclusive Michelin-starred Rousillon restaurant in central London. A day in a dirty theme park didn’t exactly make them presentable for such a fine establishment, so they Apparated back to Grimmauld Place for showers and changes of clothes before arriving at the restaurant. 

**** 

This was _much_ better. Draco stared approvingly at the menu, which had been presented to him from a well-mannered waiter in a crisp white uniform, and felt himself relax for the first time all day. There were several sets of cutlery laid out for each diner, designed for each course. The silverware was highly polished and the crystal wineglasses were spotless and unblemished. _So the Muggles can do some things right,_ Draco thought to himself. He waved away the others’ concerns when they saw the prices; Draco was a Malfoy, and a Malfoy believes a good meal is worth paying the price to acquire. He was footing the bill tonight, but it was not as if he couldn’t easily afford it anyway. 

In his element and feeling more confident than at any other point whilst in the Muggle world, Draco called the waiter over and ordered a bottle of good-quality Champagne which cost over thirty Galleons on its own, after everyone had to show their identification. Hermione, of course, had a genuine passport, and the waiter gave Ron the benefit of the doubt as he was with others, and was wearing an ’18 today’ badge, but Draco and Harry’s illegal forged documents easily passed examination. Harry proposed a toast to his best friend and the four drank. Before they had even ordered their food, the bottle was drained and Draco ordered more expensive Chenin blanc, with labels Draco recognised from the Malfoy cellar. By the time the waiter had taken their orders (Draco had had to explain a large portion of the menu to the others), Draco had already consumed three glasses of wine and was well on the way to getting drunk. His father’s voice rang in his head: _Wine is to be savoured, not gorged on; a Malfoy does not allow himself to become intoxicated._ Draco laughed internally as he poured everyone a fourth glass. 

By the time their meals arrived, Ron was slurring his words, Hermione was scarlet and giggling at everything, and Harry’s eyes had stopped focussing properly and he was whispering all the things he was going to do to the blond once they were back home into Draco’s ear. Draco noticed they were attracting some disapproving glances from the other diners, but he chose to ignore them. 

Everyone agreed the food was delicious. All four cleared their plates of starters and main courses. The wine was still free-flowing, and by the time they were waiting for desserts they were all pretty drunk indeed. Drunk enough, it seemed, for Ron to try and bury the hatchet with Draco.

“Y’know, M’foy, I may not like ya too much, but Harry loves ya and I know ya loves him too,” Ron slurred, as he stood awkwardly, leant across the table and threw one arm around Draco’s shoulders, whilst repeatedly jamming the index finger of the other into Draco’s chest with every syllable. “So how’s about ya ‘n’ me puttin’ the past properly behind us now, and gettin’ ta know each other prop’ly?” Draco wordlessly held out an unsteady hand to Ron, who grasped it, then returned to his seat.

Their desserts arrived and an inebriated Harry couldn’t detach his eyes from Draco, who was deliberately and very slowly fellating his spoon, refusing the whole time to break eye contact with him and seriously turning Harry on. Harry was realising quite quickly that he became rather randy when he was drunk; ever since he had whispered all the sexual things he and Draco were going to do to each other that evening, his mind hadn’t really been off sex, and watching Draco with the spoon and imagining it was him Draco was sucking off right now instead was too much. Grateful for the long, draping tablecloth covering giving them some degree of privacy, Harry reached under the table for Draco’s hand, then watched in amusement as his boyfriend’s eyes widened when Harry placed the hand flat against his rather hard member. Draco’s cheeks flushed, whether in arousal or surprise Harry couldn’t tell, as Harry gently moved his hand along the length, whilst he gave small barely noticeable thrusts of the hips into Draco’s palm. 

“Do you need to go to the loos for a few minutes?” Draco asked pointedly, an eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his face. The small part of Harry’s brain that was still functioning was screaming, _yes! Go to the toilets and deal with this together in private, or, better yet, wait until you’re at home in bed- not at a fucking table in a posh restaurant with your friends sat three feet away!_ But unfortunately that part of his brain was very much in the minority. The part that was drunk, and stupid, and actually finding the idea of getting off at the dinner table _arousing_ , was completely dominating. He shook his head. 

“Please,” he gasped, quiet enough that Ron and Hermione didn’t hear over their own conversation, as he bucked further into Draco’s open hand. Draco’s smirk grew, and the next thing Harry was aware of was Draco’s dexterous fingers undoing the fly on his trousers and reaching his hand into his boxers.

“Didn’t know you had this in you, Potter,” Draco whispered seductively into Harry’s ear, as his hand finally freed Harry’s erection from its clothing entirely. 

The next few minutes were amongst the strangest, but also possibly erotic, of Harry’s life. Draco gripped him, gently but firmly, and began to move his hand. Harry fought hard to keep control; he reined in a gasp, and instead put his face in his hands as sensation threated to consume him. He heard Ron ask Draco if he was okay, and Draco lie easily by saying that the alcohol had got to him and he just needed a few minutes’ peace and quiet- never once breaking his contact with Harry’s member. 

A minute or so later Draco leant over and once more whispered, “Granger knows what we’re doing. She’s not taken her eyes off you.” Harry forced his eyes open and looked at Hermione; she was staring at Harry with an unreadable expression on her face, but her shoulders were rising and falling heavily with deep breathing and she was biting on her bottom lip. Despite having no attraction whatsoever to women, and especially Hermione, just knowing that he was being watched brought Harry even closer to climax. _I’m a fucked-up exhibitionistic drunken idiot,_ Harry thought, as he bit back a gasp when Draco ran his thumb over the super-sensitive head. 

Harry closed his eyes again, and returned his head to his hands as he knew he was about to come undone. He could hear an oblivious Ron babbling away to Draco, who was answering him perfectly coherently and articulately, all the while bringing Harry nearer and nearer to orgasm. He was so close, so fucking close, and was about to lose it entirely. And then he realised he was about to come and was going to make a mess. He wouldn’t just be able to perform a Cleaning Charm at the table, nor was he prepared to leave behind any evidence of what he and Draco had been doing. He managed to grab the napkin off the table and position it just in time, as Draco gave one final skilled stoke and Harry came, not managing to completely prevent a moan escaping his lips, or the shudder his body gave. He was still breathing heavily when he felt Draco take the napkin from him and wipe his own hand. 

He managed to tuck himself back into his clothes as he came down from his climax, and looked up. Ron was still shovelling pudding into his face and chatting away, unaware that his best friend had just been wanked off mere feet away from him. Hermione, however, uttered a very deliberate, “feeling better now, Harry?”

Harry suddenly felt a lot more sober as the realisation of what he had just done crashed over him. He flushed in embarrassment and gave Hermione an apologetic grin. He couldn’t help but think that Draco looked completely and utterly pleased with himself. He vowed never to mention to Ron what he had done. 

The bill arrived at that moment and, whilst Harry, Ron and Hermione all expressed concern at the cost, Draco quite happily paid it without a second thought. With the amount of wine they had all drunk it came to just over five hundred pounds, which was about a hundred Galleons. However Draco had seen his father pay more than double this for a good meal. And the meal had been fabulous. But right now he was eager to get home; wanking Harry off in the middle of dinner had left him rock-hard and desperate for some contact. Grateful for the lamb’s wool coat he had changed into earlier for hiding the straining erection in his trousers, he followed the others to a quiet side street, and the four Apparated home. 

As soon as the front door was closed behind them, a very drunken Ron pounced on Hermione, giving her a very uncoordinated and sloppy kiss. When Draco noticed Hermione put her hand on Ron’s arse, he just couldn’t resist; straining hard-on or not, he wasn’t about to miss the chance to wind Harry’s friends up. He dashed into the kitchen and retrieved Harry’s birthday present to Ron, then returned to the hallway. He tapped Hermione on the shoulder, forcing her to break the kiss, and handed her the package. 

“I thought you might need the broomstick servicing kit,” Draco said, fully deadpanned. “That is, if you’re going to fuck again. But please, remember the fucking Silencing Charm this time.” He left the pair open-mouthed and blushing furiously and began his ascent of the stairs, a laughing Harry close behind him. 

As soon as Draco closed the bedroom door he threw up the strongest Silencing and Locking Charms he knew, and had not even had time to return his wand to his pocket before Harry pushed him against the door and pressed his body flush against his, attacking his mouth with his tongue and causing Draco’s erection to become painfully tight in this trousers. He’d been on edge now for close to an hour, and even the material of his clothing was causing a delicious friction. Harry’s thigh, which was now pushed against it and grinding into him, was almost torture. 

“Harry,” Draco almost begged, “please, just do something, anything, otherwise I’ll come in my underwear at this rate.” Harry stopped kissing and licked his lips as he began fumbling with the fly on Draco’s trousers, the whole time not breaking eye-contact. Draco’s pupils were huge and dark, almost hiding any hint of the stormy grey they normally contained. They were filled with pure _want_. He finally freed Draco’s length from its clothing and, without once breaking eye contact, he dropped to his knees. 

Draco knew the second Harry’s mouth wrapped around his cock that this was going to be all over embarrassingly quickly. An hour of being extremely turned on, and watching Harry come, had almost pushed him towards his climax even without being touched. He tried to thrust into Harry’s mouth, but a firm arm clamped him to the door. Draco could feel himself rushing towards orgasm; he tried to warn Harry but barely a whimper escaped his lips. He shut his eyes and threw his head back, not noticing or caring that it hit the door with a loud ‘clunk’. His breathing sped up and he began to tremble until, _ohmyfuckinggodyes_ wave after wave of his climax surged through his body, and Harry sucked relentlessly, not missing a drop until Draco finally collapsed, spent, onto their bedroom floor. It had lasted barely a minute.

“Sorry,” he panted ,when he had finally got most of his breath back. 

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Harry smiled. “Besides, means we’ll both be ready to go again in a few minutes.” And as if to emphasise his point, he leant over to kiss Draco once more, pushing his growing erection into Draco’s hip. 

“You’re insatiable,” Draco said, and began to attack Harry’s neck with his lips.

“You can bloody talk,” Harry gasped, indicating Draco’s cock, which was beginning to take an interest once more, “And how can I not be, Draco, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He took Draco’s hand and pressed it against his groin. “Look what you do to me. So hard, and always because of you.” 

Draco pounced. He crushed his mouth to Harry’s and walked him backwards until the back of Harry’s knees made contact with their bed. Clothes were quickly shed and the two lay on the mattress together, bodies pressed flush together, their lips locked, beads of sweat running over their goose-pimpled skin. Harry threaded his fingers into Draco’s hair, tugging slightly harder than he intended to when Draco found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. He flipped Draco onto his back and began kissing him all over, leaving Draco’s skin tingling where Harry’s lips touched. Harry paused only to retrieve his wand from the bedside table and cast a quiet Cleansing Charm on his boyfriend before resuming his trails of kisses, lower and lower still, even bypassing Draco’s throbbing erection, instead licking his testicles, his scrotum, even lower still, until-

“Fuck!” Draco hissed, grabbing two huge fistfuls of bedclothes urgently. Why had they never done this before? Harry licking _there_ was perhaps the single most wonderful thing he had ever felt- it was highly intimate, sexy as hell and completely and utterly _dirty_. Draco felt as if every nerve-ending had exploded and multiplied, setting his entire body on fire. Harry snaked a hand round and began to slowly fist Draco’s erection, which by now was fully erect and in desperate need of attention once more. Draco was thankful he had only just come; otherwise this would have been all over by now. 

Harry very gently breached Draco with his tongue, causing Draco to make a rather peculiar sound that Harry politely ignored; instead he swirled his tongue inside Draco, never once taking his eyes off the blond as Draco inch by inch fell to pieces under Harry’s control. Draco really was stunning- his cheeks were flushed pink, his blond hair matted to his head with sweat, and his perfect lips were kissed-swollen and slightly parted. Harry decided in that moment that Draco needed to see how gorgeous he was. He removed his tongue and once more picked up his wand. 

“Have you ever watched yourself come, Draco?” he asked in a low voice, trying to control the lustful tremble in it. Draco moaned from the loss of contact but shook his head. “Well, you’re going to tonight. I could come just by watching you, you know. So sexy, so fucking sexy.” He waved his wand in front of them and produced what partly looked like a Patronus, except it was non-corporeal, and it reflected his and Draco’s image back as effectively as a mirror. “We’re going to watch you come together, love.”

Draco didn’t need much preparation as Harry’s tongue had already done most of the work, but Harry still expertly used his fingers to massage Draco’s prostate for a couple of minutes,then withdrew them, before quickly Summoning the handcuffs they kept in Draco’s nightstand.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he commanded, and Draco did as he was told, eyes wide with pure unadulterated desire. Harry secured the cuffs onto Draco’s wrists, then bent him over onto all fours, positioned himself, and gently pushed in. Once he had fully penetrated Draco, Harry pulled Draco up onto his knees so they were both knelt on the bed, in front of their reflective charm. Harry gently pulled out of Draco as far as he dared, before slamming back in. 

“So beautiful. Just look at you,” Harry said breathlessly, as he made eye-contact with Draco in the reflection. “You’re mine. You’re always going to be mine.” With that, Harry bit him on the neck, not hard enough to break the skin but with enough strength to leave a lingering mark.

“Yours,” gasped Draco, and he threw his head back onto Harry’s shoulder and shut is eyes tight. Harry yanked his hair. 

“Eyes open, and look at your face,” Harry ordered, slamming deeply into his boyfriend. Harry could tell Draco was getting close; his breathing was becoming erratic and Harry could feel his muscles start to rhythmically contract. He reached round the front and began to wank Draco in time with his thrusts. 

Draco began to whimper, and he fought the urge to screw his eyes shut. He was very close to orgasm now; the combined stimulation to prostate and cock sending extreme pleasure soaring through his body. He bit down on his lower lip as his breathing sped up, forcing himself to look his reflection in the eye. 

“You keep your eyes open,” Harry commanded again. “Look at you, so beautiful, so perfect. Do you see, now, what I see? Why you make me so hard, why I want you all the time? I’m watching you closely, Draco. You’re getting me so fucking near. I need to watch you. Come, Draco.” 

Draco had never had an orgasm on demand before, but he had already entered the point of no return when Harry began speaking. The wanton tone in Harry’s voice proved to be Draco’s undoing; his climax hit and Draco came with a loud cry, managing to watch himself as it reached its completion. Harry thrust deeply one, two, three more times before Draco felt him stiffen, his own release upon him, and he let out a groan of satisfaction.

“Fucking incredible,” Harry said once he could speak again. “I really, really love you, you know.”

Draco twisted his head round and sought out Harry’s lips. “I love you too,” he replied once the kiss had ended. “And Drunk Harry is one kinky bastard. I think I would very much like him to visit again.” Harry laughed sheepishly. 

“Actually I mainly sobered up just before we Disapparated outside the restaurant. But I just couldn’t help myself tonight. Draco, I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life now.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” Draco said, wrapping his arms around Harry as Harry removed the handcuffs. “I’m yours, remember? That cottage in Godric’s Hollow, just me and you, having the most unbelievable sex, forever.”

“Sounds perfect,” Harry replied, as the pair lay down on the mattress together and Harry Summoned the duvet. 

As Draco drifted off to sleep, Harry lay awake staring into the darkness. With the end of the war looming, Harry couldn’t help but wonder how long his and Draco’s ‘forever’ was going to last. Would they both come through the other side alive? He forced the thought from his mind, determined not to ruin what had been a totally wonderful day, and fell asleep on Draco’s chest, thinking he had just had the best sex of his entire life and nothing was going to spoil the memory of that. Not even Voldemort.


	16. Rat, Snake and Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title was taken from JKR's 'Cat, Rat and Dog' chapter of Prisoner of Azkaban. But it just fit so well for this chapter of the story.
> 
> Moderate-heavy torture in this chapter. Please don't read if that offends.  
  
---  
  
"Delicious dinner, than you, Tonks,” Harry said, as he and Ron collected the dishes from the table. She beamed at him.

“You sure you don’t want me to help wash up, Harry?” she asked. Harry dismissed her offer with a wave of his hand. Tonks was into the sixth month of her pregnancy now and her bump was getting big. Harry stared at it as Remus folded a protective arm around her shoulders and helped her out of the living room; he had promised Lupin that he would vanquish Voldemort before their child’s birth and he intended to keep that promise. But he knew time was running out. 

After Remus returned to the kitchen once Tonks was resting, and the clearing away had been completed, Harry cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention. 

“I’ve been thinking. About getting Nagini, I mean,” he began, but paused, needing a minute to prepare. It was now mid-March and Harry had made up his mind; his plan was worth the risk and he was about to share it with the others. However he had no idea how this idea would be received. Snape and Draco, Harry knew, would agree instantly, even Ron probably, but it was Remus’ and Hermione’s reactions he was most concerned about. He still didn’t know how he felt about it either if truth be told. Just as he was about to start speaking again, however, Draco interrupted. 

“Me too. I was thinking, Harry, how about producing a snake and sending it after Nagini?” Wrong-footed, Harry turned to stare at his boyfriend.

“I… sorry, what? Produce a snake?” Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Serpentsortia, you prick. You could command it in Parseltongue to go after Nagini and, I don’t know, order it to kill her with its venom or something. What do you think?”

Harry contemplated this. Could it work? It was a long-shot but worth a try. He raised his wand, and cried, “ _Serpentsortia_!” 

A huge black cobra shot out of the end of the holly wand and landed on the kitchen table, causing the others to yelp and retreat in shock. Harry immediately spoke to the snake. 

_/Stop/_

_You speak?_ asked the snake as it froze, turning its hooded head towards Harry.

_/I speak. The others here do not, so please do not move suddenly and frighten them. Please, tell me. How powerful is your venom?/_

_I am afraid the reactions to it are mild. A snake produced from a spell does not have the same capacities as a naturally-conceived beast. I could bite everyone in this room and none of you would suffer more than a swollen arm,_ the snake hissed.

/ _I understand. Thank you./_ Harry quickly waved his wand and the serpent disappeared. The others looked at his questioningly. Harry grimaced. 

“No good, I’m afraid. It said its venom isn’t even enough to kill one of us. What chance would it stand against a twelve-foot long python?”

“That, Harry, and the obvious reason it wouldn’t be successful,” Snape drawled. “We couldn’t simply send a magically-created snake which was obviously under a wizard’s control to the Manor to attack Nagini and have any hope of it not arousing the Dark Lord’s suspicions. The plan is totally unworkable.”

Draco looked crestfallen. Harry put a hand on his shoulder. 

“There is a reason I brought this up this evening, however. I, er, I’ve had an idea. But I don’t know how much you’re going to like it.” He paused again and surveyed his audience. Everyone was staring intently, waiting to hear Harry’s plan. He took a deep breath. “It involves Wormtail.”

“Peter?” Remus replied, obviously surprised. “What plan to kill Nagini could possibly…” he turned pale as his voice trailed off and realisation flooded his face. He met Harry’s uncertain eyes and gave a sad nod of approval. “Okay, do it,” he said miserably, before closing his eyes. 

“Harry?” Draco asked, obviously confused. 

“In 1994 I saved Peter Pettigrew’s life,” Harry continued. “From Sirius and Remus here. He was the one who betrayed my parents to Voldemort and Sirius was literally going to kill him because of it. I asked him not to. It wasn’t out of caring for Pettigrew’s life but because I didn’t want the death to harm my parents’ best friends that I saved him. Of course, I thought the bastard was going to rot in Azkaban, not escape. But that doesn’t matter. He owes me a life debt.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he stared at Harry, mouth slack, Snape looked highly impressed, and Remus resigned, as the realisation of Harry’s suggestion came over them. Hermione gave a small whimper.

“Oh, Harry, you can’t possibly be thinking…” she said slowly.

Harry gave her a sad smile. “What other choice do we have, Hermione? We’re in the middle of a war. Sacrifices have to be made. ”

“But you know Voldemort will kill him,” she whispered, tears swimming in her eyes. 

“I know,” Harry said. “His blood is going to be on my hands. And it’s why I’ve struggled with this idea. I will be condemning him to death for certain, and probably a really violent one, too. I’ve been thinking it over for a couple of months, desperately trying to come up with something else. But there isn’t anything. We’re getting desperate. This is all we have.”

“Sorry, but what the bloody hell is going on?” Ron asked, confusion etched on his features. Snape rolled his eyes and exhaled in an exasperated manner.

“As usual, Mr Weasley, your uptake is several steps behind the uptake of your peers. Harry is owed a life debt from Peter Pettigrew. I assume you’re familiar with how life debt magic works? When a wizard saves the life of another, a bond is formed between them. The wizard to whom the life debt is owed can call upon the debtor to repay the debt for any reason, and the magical bond compels them to do so. The magical bond that forms is one of intense strength and cannot be dissolved by either party. Harry here is going to see Wormtail fulfil his life debt by slaughtering Nagini.”

Ron took a sharp intake of breath. Harry noticed he was trembling slightly. 

“But why does that mean certain death? Can’t he sneak in and do it, like we could?”

“No.” It was Remus who spoke this time. “Voldemort needs to know it was Pettigrew, to keep any suspicion away from us. Voldemort needs to witness the killing, or at least know it was Pettigrew who did it. It’s the only way we can keep attention from us.”

Ron looked slightly sickened and he’d turned very pale.

“It has to be done, mate,” he said finally. Harry nodded his thanks, then turned to Hermione. 

“We’re all in this together,” he said gently to her. “If you disagree, we don’t do it, okay? I’m not doing this without the backing of all five of you. We are literally sentencing a man to his death if we go through with this. That’s not something I’m prepared to do if one of us doesn’t agree.” Hermione very slowly nodded her head to give her consent. Harry smiled sadly at her and reached out for her hand. “Thank you. And I’m assuming Draco and Snape, you’re both in agreement?”

“Merlin yes, it’s a brilliant plan, Harry,” Draco said, as Snape concurred with the blond.

“He betrayed your mother, and as good as killed her himself,” Snape said, in an uneven tone that caused Harry and Draco to exchange a knowing look. “I actually agree with your late dogfather on this matter. The rat deserves death.”

“There is one major problem I see with this plan, though- for us, I mean,” Harry said. “What if Voldemort uses Legilimency on Wormtail and sees it’s us that sent him to kill Nagini? He does that and the game is up.”

“I shall brew a memory-altering Potion. It works in a similar manner to Obliviate, but instead of simply removing one’s memories it plants a falsified or altered memory in place of the original and, unlike a False Memory Charm, neither Legilimency nor Veritaserum can break through it and uncover the genuine memory, and it cannot be reversed through any spell or Potion once implemented,” Snape replied, a sneer of triumph turning at the corners of his mouth. “Although Pettigrew will be forced by the life debt to carry out the execution, he will believe it will be for the reasons we implant in his mind. He will have no recollection of ever having spoken to us at all. And Voldemort will never be able to discover it was really us that sent him.”

“Are such Potions legal?” Hermione asked hesitantly. Draco snorted. 

“Of course not, Granger,” he sneered. “This is Dark Arts at its strongest. But then again sending a man to his death isn’t exactly legal either, yet here we are planning that. Harry’s right, this is war, and this is what needs to be done. Evil Illegal Potion included.”

Hermione bit her lip but said nothing. 

“This is a complex Potion that takes a complete week to brew. Draco and Miss Granger, I shall require both of your skills to aid its brewing. Of course, that leaves the issue of actually bringing Pettigrew here.”

“How are we going to do that, then?” Remus asked. “Is he at the Manor? I don’t think Harry and I saw him the night we rescued Draco.”

“The rat has been staying at my former abode in Spinner’s End for close to two years now. For all intents and purposes the property has been abandoned by myself. I’m sure vermin like him is still inside. Care to aid me in the capture of the rat, Lupin?” Snape asked.

“I’d be delighted,” Remus replied.

****

It was exactly seven days later when Harry heard the opening of Grimmauld’s front door, and the urgent whispers of Snape and Lupin were just loud enough to fill the hallway. Harry raced into the passage and gave a hopeful look to both men. Snape nodded to him, whilst Lupin held up a Stupefied grey rat in his right hand, beaming. Both men seemed unruffled and unharmed.

“Little bastard tried to escape,” Remus said. “Took one look at Severus and transformed. He tried to make a run for the back exit but unfortunately for him I was there waiting for him. Stunned the little shit- excuse my language, Harry- and Severus collected his wand. Made it much easier getting him across the Fidelius Charm in rat form too as all I had to do was carry him across the spell’s threshold. We should thank him really. And it will definitely make it easier with Peter’s own wand being the one to carry out Nagini’s killing, much less suspicious than using another wand.”

“Let’s get him into the drawing room,” Harry said, leading the way back into the room he’d just vacated, in which Draco, Ron and Hermione were also present. He noticed his hands were shaking slightly and he was fighting to control his emotions. 

“Get it together,” Draco whispered in his ear. “You can’t break down in front of him. You need to mean business.” Harry took a deep breath and nodded. Draco was right. 

Lupin laid the rat on the floor and performed the charm to reverse the spell and return Wormtail to his human condition. The bubbling hatred Harry felt for the unconscious man was mingled with immense guilt that Pettigrew was unknowingly entering the final stages of his life. It was a very strange juxtaposition of emotions and Harry was having some major internal conflicts.

“Ready?” Snape asked the room in general, but aimed mainly at Harry. He gave a small nod and tried to school his features into one of cold indifference. 

“ _Rennervate!”_ Snape said, and as the second the spell hit, Wormtail spluttered and regained consciousness. The little colour that had been in his face drained away to a pallid grey when he realised the company he had. He just stared, disbelieving at the room. 

“Harry!” Pettigrew cried in surprise when he noticed him.

“Don’t you dare call him that,” Draco said icily, his wand pointed directly at Pettigrew’s heart. He smirked in satisfaction when he saw the rat’s eyes widen in shock as he identified Lucius Malfoy’s Marked son apparently an ally of Potter and a welcome guest in… wherever they were. 

“Hello again, Scabbers,” Ron said dryly, a look of revulsion on his face. Draco was impressed with Ron’s fierce and contemptuous tone, and vowed to ask Harry about the ‘Scabbers’ reference later on. By now Pettigrew was looking positively terrified and began to babble incoherently. 

“Be quiet,” Harry commanded, in a voice filled with a confidence he was not feeling. “Stop snivelling, Wormtail, and shut up. I will silence you with a spell if you cannot control your tongue.” Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest. _This is it. This is the moment I sentence someone to die._ He forced himself to stop shaking. “I have a nice little task for you, Wormtail, and I am sure you’ll carry it out admirably.”

Pettigrew looked petrified. The little remaining colour that had been in his face disappeared entirely. “T…task?”

“Voldemort’s snake, Nagini. We want it dead. And we thought we’d give the honours of the kill to you,” Harry continued. “Seeing how much you like betraying people you’re supposedly loyal to, we couldn’t think of anyone better for the job, could we?” Everyone in the room shook their heads in agreement, eyes fixed on the quivering Pettigrew.

“You want me to… the Dark Lord’s… but why?” Wormtail spluttered. 

“Ah, I think we’ll be keeping that piece of information to ourselves,” Harry replied, forcing a contemptuous smirk on his face. “Let’s just say I feel like pissing him off. You know me and Voldemort, tit for tat. He uses you to get at my parents, I use you to get at his snake. It’s only fair.”

“Why should I do anything you ask?” Pettigrew spat, wincing as his words earned him a hard jab in his back from Remus’ wand. 

“Dear, dear me,” Harry said disbelievingly. “We do have a short memory. You owe me a life debt, Peter, and I’m cashing in. You have no choice I’m afraid.”

At that point Wormtail tried to escape. He evidently forgot he was outnumbered six to one and wandless as he made a dash to the door, only for Hermione’s Trip Jinx to halt his progress. 

“Try that again, rat, and I will destroy you on the spot,” Snape said, wand pointed directly at him.

Pettigrew’s legs buckled then, and he fell to the floor with a shriek. 

“Don’t make me do this! I beg you! He’ll kill me!”

“That’s the part that pleases me most about Harry’s plan,” Snape replied, his words laced with venom. 

Harry very nearly faltered then, faced with a sobbing man pleading for his life. _Let him go, Obliviate him and we’ll find another way,_ his mind screamed. But images of Sirius, his parents, and Cedric filled his mind. Pettigrew had not shown one iota of mercy for any of them, and his pity was once more replaced with hatred for the snivelling wreck in front of him.

Harry desperately wanted this to be over, before he completely lost his nerve. He drew his wand and began to repeat the words Remus had taught him to say. “Peter Pettigrew, also known as Wormtail, I am calling in the life debt owed to me by you when I saved your life from Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, on the sixth June, 1994. You will seek out and kill, by any means necessary, Nagini, the snake belonging to Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, whilst in his presence, in an apparent act of rebellion. You are bound by magic to complete this task,” he said clearly, and he was pleased to find his voice was steady as he commanded the magic.

At Harry’s words there was an audible crack in the room, and the magic prickled over its inhabitants skin, sealing the bond and commencing the magical compulsion. Harry swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat. It was too late to back out now.

Wormtail was still on his knees, weeping. He made to grab Harry’s legs in a fully begging manner but Draco kicked his arms away. 

“It’s time,” Harry said softly, willing his voice not to crack. Pettigrew never saw the spell coming; Snape sent a nonverbal Stunning Spell straight at his back and he collapsed, unconscious once more. Then Snape retrieved a small vial containing a shocking pink liquid, and forced it down Pettigrew’s throat.

“Ut muto memoria est ut muto mens,” Snape chanted, almost song-like, as his wand extracted long silvery wisps from Pettigrew’s temples that Harry recognised as the same technique as memory removal before placing in a Pensive. Only in this incidence the memories were simply discarded and ceased to exist with a wave of Snape’s wand. Snape chanted a few more phrases in Latin before turning to Harry. 

“His memory has been permanently altered. He will have no recollection of having spoken to any of us upon wakening, and believe he wishes to kill Nagini as an act of rebellion due to his defection from the Death Eaters. Harry’s life debt will ensure the task is completed, even though the rat will be unaware of it. Pettigrew’s memories will also withstand any amount of Legilimency or attempts to check for mind-altering charms.”

Harry stared at the broken, unconscious shell of the man who had once been his parents’ best friend. How long did he have left to live, supposing he killed Nagini as soon as he arrived at the Manor? Two hours? Six? A day? He felt his stomach churn. 

Remus replaced Wormtail’s wand inside his robes and then Disillusioned him. Snape dragged him back into the hallway, Disillusioned himself, flung open the front door and Apparated them both to the grounds of Malfoy Manor. He returned a minute later. 

“I revived him successfully at the Manor’s gates, and he is off to carry out the mission. Good work, everyone.” 

Harry felt his legs begin to buckle and he suddenly felt himself engulfed in Draco and Hermione’s arms as the emotions of the previous half an hour finally overcame him and he gave way to tears.

**** 

Harry was sat at the kitchen table picking at a sandwich when an immense pain shot though his scar and he felt undeniable fury that didn’t belong to him surge through his body. He threw his hands to his head and unsuccessfully tried to stifle a moan. Immediately Draco’s arms were cradling him protectively.

“It’s beginning,” Harry gasped in ragged breaths as he clung to his boyfriend. “Voldemort. He’s got Wormtail.”

“Harry,” Hermione’s voice was soft and the gentle kitchen light reflected a tear-track running down her left cheek. “Occlude this. Come on, you don’t need to see.”

“Yes, I do,” Harry replied through gritted teeth, as the pain threatened to make him bring up the meagre amount of food he had managed to consume. “We’ve done this to him. The least I can do is play witness to it. Someone should know exactly what happens to him.” He closed his eyes and slipped into Voldemort’s mind. 

Wormtail was on his knees, naked and ankles magically shackled, already a huge weeping gash slashed across his chest. The beheaded corpse of Nagini lay perhaps five feet away from him, next to a bloodied ceremonial sword that had once graced the walls of Malfoy Manor; the pale white carpet of the Manor was soaked in blood. Whether human or reptile, it was impossible to distinguish. Voldemort raised his wand and nonverbally cast a curse at Wormtail; the man let out a high-pitched, agonising scream as he lost his left arm, the Mark severed from his traitorous body. The limb thudded to the floor with a sickening dull ‘clunk’, and the wound began to bleed profusely before Voldemort cast a spell to stop the blood flow. Evidently Voldemort was not done punishing the man and was not prepared to let him bleed to death. Yet. 

“Explain your actions! Explain them!” shrieked Voldemort, in an uncharacteristic loss of control, his wand slashing and cutting Pettigrew with every syllable. Pettigrew only whimpered in response and received another deep incision, this time to his back for his actions. 

“ _Legilimens!_ ” Voldemort screeched, and for a few moments the only sound in the room was the heavy panting coming from Wormtail, mixed with his soft weeping. 

“So,” Voldemort said, pulling out of Wormtail’s mind at last. “You sought to defy me. To weaken me. You were going to try and defeat me by yourself, is that it? What was this, some final desire to prove yourself worthy of a Gryffindor after all? It will cost you your life, fool! _Crucio_!”

If the scream Wormtail had emitted after he lost his arm was bad, this was twenty times worse. The sound was harrowing and inhuman; the Cruciatus Curse applied mercilessly by an irate Voldemort was causing his fractured body to jerk and convulse. The Curse was applied for such a length of time that Wormtail vomited, bringing up blood as well as the contents of his stomach, and he urinated on the carpet like an untrained animal before slipping into unconsciousness. “ _Rennervate!_ ” Voldemort cried, before applying the Cruciatus Curse once more. 

When Pettigrew lost consciousness for the second time, Voldemort dropped the curse. He revived his victim once more and aimed his wand. 

“ _Effervo,”_ Voldemort commanded. The blood-boiling curse struck, filling Pettigrew’s veins with a white-hot liquid as his body began to cook to death from the inside. His skin began to blacken and blister, like that of a pepper under a flame, and bubbling red liquid began to pour from his nostrils and ears. The wretched man looked incredibly close to his final demise and was now lying on the floor, conscious but no longer moving or uttering any sounds. 

Voldemort raised his wand one final time. “ _Praefoco prefoco,_ ” he said calmly, almost in a mocking tone. A black chain of smoke was emitted from his yew wand and wrapped itself tightly around Wormtail’s neck, cutting off all air. Pettigrew didn’t even try to fight it off. His face turned red, then blue, before his completely-destroyed body gave a final spasm and then was still, his terrified eyes staring unseeingly at the man who had tortured him, and would never see again. Voldemort kicked Wormtail’s corpse, causing a posthumous break of the spine, and leaving his body even more crumpled, before casting an Incendio and reducing it to ashes. He then leant over the corpse of his snake, and cast some unknown spell, clearly searching for something, a trace of magic he was desperately willing to still be there, inside the body, but found nothing. The scream of fury that followed could be heard throughout Malfoy Manor. 

**** 

Harry opened his eyes, which he was unsurprised to find were wet, and immediately began to retch. Remus hastily conjured a bowl and Harry emptied the contents of his stomach into it, followed by yellow bile once his stomach was empty. Draco handed him a glass of water, which Harry received with shaking hands. He vaguely realised he was in his and Draco’s bedroom, alone with just Draco and Remus, and wondered how he had got there.

“It’s over,” Harry said quietly. “Nagini is dead. The Horcrux is destroyed. Wormtail… is gone.” He cast a quick _Tempus_ , and was surprised to see it was only ten thirty at night. It had only been nine hours since Remus and Snape had captured Wormtail; now he was dead. He took a deep, steadying breath. 

“Draco, can you leave us a minute, please? Tell the others the news and that I’m OK. Please?” he repeated, when Draco looked as if he was about to argue. Clearly unhappy with what was an obvious dismissal, Draco stood, kissed Harry briefly on the forehead and left the room without uttering a word. Harry turned to face Remus. 

“That was the single worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Even worse than when the Dementors get near me,” Harry said, and before he knew it, hot, fat tears were falling down his cheeks and he was sobbing into Remus’ chest, his shoulders heaving. It took a few minutes for Harry to realise Remus was crying too. He broke the embrace and looked into those amber eyes. 

“He was a good friend, at school,” Remus said unsteadily. “Your dad and Sirius were the trouble-makers, but Peter and I would often spend hours alone, just us, practising spells or reading, whilst Sirius and James were off plotting something. I was a lot closer to him than your dad or Sirius were.” He pulled out a photo from his robes. It was of Remus and his three friends and one Harry hadn’t seen before. “I found this last night. Where did it all go so bloody wrong, hey, kiddo?” He was silent for a long time, just staring at the photo. James was pushing Pettigrew out of the way to get into the forefront of the shot, Peter was beaming at the camera, and Remus and Sirius exchanged a quick kiss before pulling silly faces. Harry smiled mournfully at it, as Remus traced a trembling finger over each of the figures in the picture. “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. The Marauders. I’m the last one.” He pulled the photo onto his chest and once more began to cry. 

Just then there was a tentative knock on the door. 

“Remus? Remus, darling, are you OK in there?” It was Tonks. “I could hear you downstairs and… can I come in?” She pushed the door open a crack. 

“Tell her,” Harry whispered. “It’s all right. Not everything, but why you’re upset.” He gave Remus a final pat of support on the back and left the room, giving Tonks a sad smile on the way out and leaving Remus to grieve for his lost friends.

As soon as he got downstairs, the interrogation started. He sat down and gratefully sipped the large measure of brandy Snape poured for him as he recounted everything from the vision. By the end, Hermione was in tears and Ron was still. Even Snape and Draco looked a little sickened. Harry downed the remainder his brandy and poured another generous measure into his glass.

“The good thing, of course, is that Nagini is definitely dead and the Horcrux definitely destroyed. I watched Voldemort check her body. It was gone for certain,” Harry said, as he took a swig of the alcohol, savouring the calming heat as it began to flow through his veins. 

“No more Horcruxes left, mate!” Ron said, in a false cheerfulness that nobody felt. Harry grimaced. 

“Except me,” he said, in barely a whisper, finishing his drink. “Severus, do you have any Dreamless Sleep brewed?” Snape nodded and disappeared to retrieve the vial. A minute later he was back, holing out the small vial of purple liquid to Harry, who accepted it gratefully. “I think I’ll need this tonight. I’ll speak to you all in the morning.” He reached out a hand for Draco, who instantly took it, and they made their way up to their bedroom, which Remus and Tonks had now vacated. Harry changed for bed, knocked back the Potion, and welcomed the oblivion that followed. 

**** 

Harry awoke early that morning, feeling well-rested thanks to the Potion but still agitated over the previous evening’s visions. It was still dark outside so he snuggled into Draco and tried to return to sleep. Half an hour later he was still awake and Draco was mumbling sleepily about “fidgeting Gryffindors,” so Harry got out of bed, pulled on Draco’s luxurious blue silk gown, and made his way downstairs. He was surprised to see Snape sat at the kitchen table, a mug of black coffee in his hands. It was still not yet six in the morning.

“How did you sleep, Harry?” he asked in way of greeting. Harry pulled a face.

“OK. But because of the Potion. Thank you for that,” he replied, helping himself to coffee from the pot. It reminded him of months ago, before Ron and Hermione were here and he and Draco were together. Many a morning he and Snape sat at the table, drinking coffee alone. So much had happened in nearly eight months.

“Severus, you have the potion ready, right? To purge the Horcrux from me?” Harry asked. The slight rise in Snape’s eyebrows was the only indication of the surprise the man felt.

“Yes, Harry. It’s ready when you are.” Harry took a deep breath. 

“Then let’s do this. Today. Draco won’t like it, but-”

“Draco won’t like _what_?” Came Draco’s voice from the door. Harry jumped and turned, spilling coffee on the table.

“Purging the Horcrux,” he replied, deciding to be direct. “I’m going to do it today.” Draco’s eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“And I don’t get a say in this, Harry?” he asked. Harry could hear the hurt behind the words and flinched. 

“No. I told you in October I was doing this. There is no reason to wait now. Nagini is dead. It’s just me to go. Delaying is only putting off the inevitable.”

Draco blanched and he turned his head away. Harry-being-a-Horcrux had always been a source of conflict between them. Harry stood from the table and took Draco into his arms. 

“I’m doing it. Otherwise, what the fuck was yesterday all for, Draco? What did we condemn a man to death for, if I’m just going to leave it there? The sooner I get rid of this- _thing_ , the sooner Voldemort will be defeated.” Draco had begun to shake, and he was blinking rapidly. “Look, I know you’re scared-”

“ _Scared?_ Scared I could cope with. Harry, I’m fucking terrified. Remember how I was back in October when this plan was discussed? Well, that was five months ago, five months to fall so unbelievably in love with you that I am no longer able to imagine my life without you in it, in any way imaginable!” And completely forgetting Snape was sat at the kitchen table, he leant forwards and took Harry’s mouth in his, kissing him hard, until Snape’s throat-clearing from behind them broke them apart. 

“Today, then,” Harry said, firmly but gently, running a finger down the side of Draco’s face, never once breaking eye contact. “Every day we delay is more chance for him to replace the lost Horcrux, or to get stronger. This has gone on long enough. It’s time to end it. I need you with me, Draco. Yes, this is a risk, but I have full trust in Severus Snape.” And it was true. As unbelievable as this seemed a year ago, Harry really did trust his hook-nosed former professor with his life. 

Draco nodded weakly and made himself a coffee, drinking the hot liquid far too quickly.

An hour later and the entire household, minus Tonks, were in Harry and Draco’s bedroom, Harry sat up on the bed. Harry had put Draco, Ron and Hermione through their paces, practising Parseltongue phrases that he had been teaching them over the weeks just in case they should need it. He felt a lot calmer than he had twenty-four hours ago. He smiled at Remus and Hermione, who were casting monitoring charms to monitor his vital signs.

“Here we go then,” Harry said. He picked up the Basilisk fang in his right hand, and turned over his left so it was palm-up. “And if something does go wrong, you know what needs to be done. I love you all.” With that, before he could talk himself out of this insane idea, he plunged the tip of the fang into his hand.

The pain was instantaneous and transported him in his mind back to a twelve-year-old boy in the Chamber of Secrets. An agonising white-hot stabbing sensation radiated from the puncture site and shot up his arm like a bolt of electricity. Before he could stop himself he opened his mouth and let out a bloody-curdling scream. 

“Grab him, Ron!” Harry vaguely was aware of Remus saying, and looked over with blurring vision to see a distraught Draco trying his best to get to Snape, who held the antidote. _It’s not time for the potion yet, love,_ Harry thought, as his consciousness began to waver. He closed his eyes as he heard Snape say, “ _Expelliarmus_!” clearly and a scream of frustration coming from his boyfriend, who was evidently the one Disarmed. 

Ron was clinging tightly, but not tight enough to prevent Draco’s right arm swinging back then landing in his nose with a crack. But even with an obviously broken nose, and blood pouring down his face, he didn’t relent his grip on the blond. 

“Stop it, Malfoy!” he shouted. “This is what has to be done, what you accepted needed to be done! Respect and trust Harry enough to make his own choices! This is who Harry is, and he’ll never forgive you if you waste that antidote, the one chance of getting that fucking thing out of his head and ending this!”

Draco continued to struggle for another minute or so but his fight was lost. He turned his attention to the obviously fading Harry. He was white, his breathing had slowed and he had stopped screaming about a minute before. A quick charm confirmed his heartbeat had dropped to twenty beats a minute. When Hermione wrapped her arm protectively around Draco, he was so shocked he didn’t even attempt to throw them off. Instead he buried his face in her shoulder and let his tears fall. 

Draco’s sobs were the last sound Harry heard before consciousness was fully claimed from him. His parting thought was there was no Fawkes to come and save him this time.


	17. Black King in Check

“Sev, it’s been six days. Are you _certain_ everything is OK?”

Harry’s mind stirred groggily as his hearing became more pronounced. The voice, he believed in his still-confused state, was Draco’s. He had detected odd sounds for a few hours now, but was unable to identify their source, or understand any meaning in them. _Ah, I didn’t die then, good old Severus,_ he thought, and tried to open his eyes. Nothing. Nor could he move his body. The momentary panic Harry felt at this was replaced with the voice of reason that told him this was his body still recovering from a very nasty physical shock. If Draco was correct, and he almost certainly was, Harry had been unconscious for virtually a week. It was going to take a while before he regained full use of his faculties. Still, his hearing was back, as was his consciousness. With it brought the sensation of someone tightly gripping his hand. He tried once more to squeeze back, but it was in vain; his hand remained perfectly still in Draco’s grasp.

“Calm yourself, Draco, and, for the twentieth time, Harry is going to be fine. In fact I expect him to awaken in the next twenty-four hours. All his vital signs are strong and there is no trace of Basilisk venom in his system. His body is just recovering from a hefty trauma and needs rest,” Harry heard Snape’s quiet reply. “I’ll repeat the diagnostic spells in a few hours. Do not worry, Draco. He’ll be back with us soon.”

“Do you think he’ll be surprised?” Draco asked, and Harry longed to ask what about, to scream that he was awake. Instead he heard Snape snort. 

“Naturally. I don’t think any of us expected that to happen. I shall return soon.” Harry heard the opening and closing of the door, frustrated that he didn’t hear more, but then felt Draco’s fingers carding through his hair and the gentle pressure of his lips on his forehead, and sleep claimed him once more. 

When he awoke again, still unable to open his eyes or move, he could hear Ron and Draco in the room, talking quietly by his bedside. The first thing he noticed was the pair addressing each other by their given names, something they had thus far refused to do. 

“Draco, you should go and get some sleep. We’ll wake you up as soon as there’s any change,” Ron said, and Harry assumed Draco had shaken his head at this suggestion as he sounded more exasperated when he spoke again. “At least take a shower. Although I guess your smell could rouse Harry out of this coma, or whatever he’s in.”

“I’ll sleep when I know Harry’s definitely OK, Ron,” Draco replied stubbornly. Harry heard Ron’s deep intake of breath. 

“You really do love him, don’t you,” Ron said, and it wasn’t a question. “I know Harry loves you, and I knew you loved him too, but these past few days it’s hit home just how much. This isn’t easy for me to admit, but you’re… you’re good for him, Draco. You’re just as stubborn as he is, and you can deal with his temper better than anyone I know. And I know his fame doesn’t interest you in the slightest. You’re strong, and Harry needs that.”

“He’s the single most important thing in my life,” Draco replied simply. “If it came to it, I would die to keep him safe.”

“Like Harry would let you do that,” Ron snorted. “But the fact you’re prepared to is enough for me. Now come on, mate, Snape needs to perform some tests. Come and have something to eat at least.” Harry felt the pressure leave his hand with a gentle caress to his upturned palm, before Draco planted a kiss on his cheek and a whispered, “I’ll be back soon, love,” filled his ear. The room fell silent and Harry replayed everything he had just heard, his heart so much lighter.

The next time Harry woke up, he was aware that it was only Snape in the room, by the solitary footsteps in the room, and the gentle utterings of spells being cast on him, followed by the scratching of a quill on parchment. Suddenly Harry heard the sound of a perfume bottle being sprayed, and half a minute later his mother’s scent reached his nostrils. He could hear Snape inhaling deeply, a slight shudder to his breaths. 

“All this was for Lily,” Snape suddenly said, voice unstable. “My vow to defeat the Dark Lord started the moment I knew he was targeting her. I saw her. After the Dark Lord killed her, I cradled her in my arms on the floor in Godric’s Hollow, willing her to come back to me. My defection from the Death Eaters and alliance with Dumbledore was to avenge her death, you know, and up until a few months ago that was still my primary aim.

“But something has changed,” Snape continued, and Harry listened raptly, fully aware that Snape would not being saying this at all if he knew Harry could hear him, and feeling overwhelming sympathy for the man. “The impertinent spoilt child who I believed was a carbon-copy of James Potter turned my world on its head by being far more like Lily Evans than I ever allowed myself to believe he could be. He has none of the arrogance of his father, and all of the love, determination and goodness that was in his mother’s heart. You, Harry Potter, I admit to severely misjudging. This fight has become more than just avenging the death of the woman I loved. The woman I still love very much to this day, and will continue to love until I take my dying breath. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, brat, because you’ve become important to me. Wake up soon, Harry. Draco and your friends are missing your insolence terribly.”

Harry felt a firm hand pat him tentatively on the shoulder and then once again he was alone. He couldn’t quite find the right words to express what he had just heard, and knew how much it would have cost Snape to say them, even to an apparently unconscious Harry. Overwhelming affection and gratitude flooded through Harry for his old professor, the man who had loved his mother so much he defied the Dark Lord. The thought of Snape loving Lily still left Harry feeling uncomfortable, but it had all but shattered his illusion that his hook-nosed former professor was heartless. Severus Snape had loved, and lost, and had his heart broken by Voldemort. He was as much a victim of the bastard as he, Harry, was. 

**** 

Harry opened his eyes and was immediately hit with a blindingly painful bright light. He left out a small whimper and threw an arm over his eyes. 

“He’s awake!” Hermione’s voice shouted, followed by, “Close the curtains! It’s too bright in here for him!” The curtains were immediately pulled and the light behind Harry’s eyelids became darker. He gently opened his eyes once more, still wincing at the light but at least it was tolerable this time. He realised everyone was in the room; Snape must have known Harry was about to wake up properly. He looked around- Draco was next to him, firmly grasping his hand once more, looking lost for words but his eyes huge and full of relief. Hermione was beaming at him, as was Ron, who was still standing by the window. Remus was seated on Harry’s left, offering a supportive, gentle smile. Snape, however, appeared the professional diagnostician; his wand was in his hand and he was casting a series of nonverbal charms, evidently checking Harry’s overall health. 

“You seem to be in excellent physical condition. Welcome back, Harry,” he said. Harry smiled at everyone. 

“The potion worked then,” he said dryly, as Hermione handed him his glasses. 

“Obviously,” Snape replied, but Harry could see the triumph in his eyes. He grinned. 

“How long was I unconscious for?” Harry asked innocently. He wasn’t going to give any clues he had heard anyone, in order to protect what he had heard from Severus. 

“Just over a week. Merlin, Harry, I was so worried,” Draco said.

“So, has the soul gone then? I’m not a Horcrux anymore?” Harry asked. Five faces beamed at him. 

“Oh, it’s gone, all right,” Draco replied, flashing him a brilliant, open smile. “Look.” He waved his wand and conjured a mirror, which he handed to Harry. Harry reached out a hand, took it and stared at his own reflection. 

He pushed up his messy, and very greasy, black hair and let out a gasp. The lightning-bolt scar, which had been on his forehead for sixteen a half years, was gone, leaving nothing but a small red patch that looked like a days-old wound that had recently healed. “Well, fuck me,” he said. Draco chuckled.

“Later, definitely,” he whispered in Harry’s ear. “Right now I think everyone is desperate to spend some time with you. 

Harry sat up in the bed, and noticed his head felt lighter, clearer than he ever remembered it feeling before. He smiled to himself, as the realisation that his mind truly was his own crashed over him. No more nightmares, or false visions, or being forced to watch Voldemort torture. The relief almost made him feel giddy. There was something else, however, he was eager to try. He opened his mouth, and tried to let out a hiss of Parseltongue. Nothing. Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

“Draco, you try. Say ‘open’, or something, anything. Please,” he said. Draco let out an incomprehensible hiss that Harry didn’t understand. He looked at Hermione expectantly, who understood in a flash what he was asking. 

“That was definitely what you taught us, Harry,” she said. “I’d say you’re no longer a Parselmouth.”

Harry experienced a moment of panic then. What if it did turn out they needed it after all? Draco seemed to know exactly what Harry was thinking. 

“You don’t have to do everything yourself,” he said, rubbing soothing circles into the back of Harry’s hand, as the others all nodded in agreement. “You’ve done more than enough. Let the Order take the lead from now. Besides,” Draco flushed slightly, “the Parseltongue is fucking creepy. It makes you sound like Him. I like the fact the last link to that megalomaniac has been severed completely from you.”

“Agree with you there, mate,” Ron said, and Draco smiled at him, the first genuine smile Harry had ever seen the blond aim at his best friend. 

“Since when are you two on first name and ‘mate’ terms?” he asked, amused. Draco flushed. 

“Um, since I punched him in the face then sobbed all over his girlfriend,” Draco replied. “I guess things like losing all dignity in front of people dissolve some barriers.”

“As does finally accepting that the prat is head-over-heels for you,” Ron replied, and Harry watched, delighted, as the two shook hands.

“So, what happened? After I passed out, I mean?” Harry wanted to know. Snape explained that after Harry lost consciousness, Hermione and Ron had led Draco out of the room. They had waited until Harry’s pulse was down to single-figures a minute then administered the antidote potion into a vein, then Remus had cast a spell to artificially pump it through his body at speed which his slow heart was unable to doing by itself, whilst Severus worked on life-preserving charms. The phoenix tears reacted with Harry’s system instantly, and very quickly life began to return to his body, and his vital signs picked up. Once Harry was stabilised and his heart rate was near-normal once more, Snape had cast the final charm on Harry which reacted with the potion, forcing the piece of soul from Harry’s body. It had left, Remus said, though Harry’s mouth in a cloud of acrid, black smoke that had left a lingering odour in the room for three days.

Harry stared at them, open-mouthed. He’d been close to death before, but that really was far too close for comfort. He glanced at his hand where he had pierced himself with the fang, but, predictably, there was not a mark on it. 

“I think it’s time to speak to the Order,” Harry said to Snape. “They need to know about you and Draco and how much you’ve helped our side, and we need to come up with a plan. It’s time that bastard was destroyed once and for all.”

**** 

Remus had arranged a full Order meeting, to be held in Grimmauld Place the following week, and had emphasised that it was of vital importance, and attendance was mandatory for all prominent members. The Order was buzzing with speculation and excitement, especially when they found out it was to be held at their old Headquarters; a place which had been inaccessible to them for months. Harry had arranged to open his Floo to The Burrow and the Order members could Floo in that way. In a moment of inspiration, he and Hermione had also contacted some members of the old DA by using their charmed Galleons. 

Thanks to McGonagall, who had helped those students who responded to the coins leave the castle and revealed the location of the meeting as a Secret Keeper herself, Grimmauld Place currently housed Ginny, Neville, Luna, Parvati and Padma Patil, Lavender Brown, Michael Corner, Seamus and Dean, Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan, in addition to the Order of the Phoenix. Everyone was talking animatedly as they sat squashed around the kitchen table, whilst Dobby, who Professor McGonagall had summoned from Hogwarts, busied himself making tea for everyone. The chat died down immediately as Harry (who was wearing a glamour to make it look as if his scar was still present to avoid awkward questions he couldn’t answer), Remus, Ron and Hermione entered the room. Remus took his seat next to Tonks whilst Ron and Hermione sat with the other Weasleys. That left Harry to take the seat at the top of the table. Harry flushed and cleared his throat. 

“Right. Um,” he said, feeling his cheeks burning as everyone’s attention was focussed solely on him. “Well, as you all know, er, I’ve not been at Hogwarts this year, and Ron and Hermione joined me here at Grimmauld Place during the Christmas holidays. Before Dumbledore died, as some of you know, he, um, he left me a task to carry out- a task that needed to be completed before it would be possible to defeat Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I still cannot tell you what that task was at this stage. I have spent the last few months working on it, following Dumbledore’s instructions, and I’m delighted to be able to call this meeting to inform you all that the task is complete.”

“Does this mean we’re ready to fight Voldemort?” Kingsley asked tentatively. Harry beamed at him. 

“It most certainly does,” he replied. 

Instantly there was a huge uproar of noise- cheers erupted, fists banged on tables, and choruses of ‘well done, Harry!’ rang throughout the kitchen. Harry held up a hand and called for quiet, which he immediately received. 

“There is one more part, and a rather major part, that you do need to know, however, before we start drawing up battle plans. I need to introduce you to two other people who have been instrumental in this completion. Most of you are going to think I’ve gone mad, but I beg you, please trust me on this. I cannot give you all the facts at this time, but you need to know now that if these two individuals had not been working extremely closely with me these past months Voldemort would never have been in a position to be defeated. I trust them both fully with my life. Remus, Ron and Hermione can confirm this. Even Tonks- although she has not been working with us on Dumbledore’s task, she has lived here for many months and knows these people are trustworthy.” He looked to the others, who nodded at all the curious faces looking at them. Harry took a deep breath. “Severus, Draco, can you both come in, please?”

The door pushed open and Snape and Draco walked into the room, to complete and utter shocked silence. 

“Anyone who draws their wand on either Severus or Draco will find themselves promptly Disarmed,” Harry warned, “and not have their wand returned until this meeting is over. Please cast your attention to the middle of the table.” 

In the centre of the kitchen table, Harry had placed the Pensive that Remus had given him for Christmas. Inside it was a series of memories that he, Draco and Snape had collected together, deliberately choosing none that would give away any information about the Horcruxes, but showing their true alliance to one another. Snape waved his wand and cast a spell that allowed the memories to be viewed outside of the Pensive, like a film projection at the cinema. Everyone watched raptly as the memories played out. Draco showed everyone his refusal to torture or kill Mr Ollivander, and the subsequent torture that followed at the hands of Voldemort until he passed out. Harry showed them memories of Draco’s rescue from the Manor and how Snape had aided him and Remus in the battle that followed, the Unbreakable Vow that Snape had made with Harry, and Snape training Harry in advanced magic. Snape had given memories of his discussions with Dumbledore, how his death had been orchestrated in order to try and preserve his status as spy. 

By the end, everyone was staring at Snape and Draco. 

“Let no one be under any illusions,” Harry said clearly, and with as much authority as he could muster, “without Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy we _would_ have lost this war, as Dumbledore’s task would have been impossible to complete. They have both provided help and information that one one else on our side could have possibly given. Severus frequently risked his life for our side in order to orchestrate Voldemort’s downfall. He is the bravest man I know. Draco is as committed to destroying Voldemort as I am. If you trust me then it is absolutely critical you trust them, too.”

There were still some uncertain faces around the table, mainly from DA members who had a natural dislike for their former professor, but the majority looked appeased, if uncomfortable. Arthur Weasley stood and coughed nervously. 

“Harry, I trust you, and therefore I trust what you’re saying. If you say they’re on our side, then they’re on our side.” Harry felt giddy with relief. 

“Thank you, Mr Weasley,” he replied. Ginny looked suspicious.

“But why should we trust _Malfoy_ of all people, just because you saved him?” she said accusingly. 

“Isn’t it obvious why?” Luna said. “He’s not taken his eyes off Harry since the second he walked in, and Harry smiles every time he says his name. They’re clearly in love with each other.”

Harry and Draco both turned a very deep red, but Harry recovered first. “Thank you, Luna,” he said dryly. “Perceptive as always, I see. Yes, Draco and I are together romantically-” he ignored the gasps and caterwauls that went round the table at this “- but Voldemort tried to kill him. Because of the reasons you saw in the Pensive memories. Why would he remain loyal to a madman who wants to kill him? Draco is no coward. He does not serve out of fear. Draco is no more a Death Eater than I am.” The choice of those last words, echoing words Harry had once seen Dumbledore use to describe Snape, were deliberate. 

“We’ll leave it there for tonight,” Remus said. “We just needed to explain the situation to you and reveal the truth about some alliances. We’ll meet again tomorrow night, if Professor McGonagall is agreeable to let her students out of school once more, for a more detailed plan of action. You should all know I have cast a charm preventing anyone from discussing this meeting or any of its Pensive memories once you leave Grimmauld Place. This is for obvious security purposes. Until tomorrow then, I bid you all a good evening.”

Everyone filed out of the kitchen and began to Floo back to The Burrow before making their way home or back to school. Luna and Ginny remained behind in the drawing room for a few minutes, clearly wanting to talk to Harry. Grimmauld Place’s residents tactfully withdrew, although Harry had no doubt Draco was eavesdropping like crazy.

“How did you know?” Harry asked Luna. He didn’t need to explain what he meant. Luna smiled and touched his arm gently. 

“I’ve never seen your eyes so bright, Harry,” she replied simply. “And, quite honestly, I’ve been waiting for you two to get together since you were in fifth year.” She gave a stunned Harry a kiss on the cheek and stepped into the Floo. Soon it was just Harry alone with Ginny. He stared at the floor. 

“Good old Luna,” Ginny said sarcastically. “The phrase ‘think before you speak’ never did apply to her, did it?” Harry chuckled lightly. “You are happy, aren’t you,” Ginny said softly, and it wasn’t a question. Harry looked at her and nodded. “Then I’m glad you’ve found him, Harry. Just remind him though that he knows exactly how my Bat-Bogey Hex feels. If he hurts you I will curse him.” A small, sad smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she stroked his left arm. “Congratulations, Harry.” And she, too, disappeared. 

_Well, that wasn’t awkward at all,_ Harry thought wryly, as the door opened and he received praise from everyone on a job well done. 

**** 

The following afternoon was spent in planning. Whilst Harry was leaving the planning of the actual battle to the senior members of the Order, he was going to be in charge of the Hogwarts students. He and Snape had worked out a system on the best way to organise it, and Snape was leaving the overall planning and training to Harry. 

“I trust you fully, Harry,” Snape had said, when Harry had asked if he was sure. The words may have been simple, but they conveyed so much meaning. Harry wondered if Severus had ever told anyone before that he trusted them. He suspected not. 

Evening arrived and with it the Hogwarts students and the Order members. Molly had protested strongly about Ginny participating, until Arthur overruled her and allowed Ginny to take part, much to Molly’s anger. 

Remus and Snape had taken the Order members, minus Tonks (who couldn’t fight because of her pregnancy, which had now entered its seventh month) into the largest drawing room to discuss strategy and practise advanced spells. Harry assembled Draco, Ron, Hermione and Tonks, as well as the Hogwarts fighters, in the second largest room. Harry had also requested Fred and George join them instead of helping the Order.

“I’ve decided to split us here into two groups,” Harry said, feeling intense déjà vu from his fifth year surging through him. “We’re going to have a defensive and an offensive group. Those who I place in Offensive will undertake the role of fighting alongside the Order, although I do not expect anyone to put themselves in the same risky positions, or fight any Death Eaters alone as they will be. Defensive members’ role will be to defend the offensive group from attack, and stay out of the fighting yourselves. I will be choosing who goes into which group, and it will based on what I know of your magical strengths. I don’t want anyone to get offended if I choose you for the defensive group- your role will be crucial in protecting those involved in fighting. It does not mean I don’t think you’re capable of fighting. In fact, one of the members I’ll be placing in the defensive group is perhaps the strongest magically of all of us. If you’re chosen for the offensive group then you have the option to switch to the defensive group, as offensive is a riskier group. But there will be no trading up. Is that understood?” Everyone nodded. “I will not be using any nepotism. Everyone is picked on ability. The offensive group, you’ll be training with me. I warn you now, we’ll be practising illegal Dark magic. I will not, however, be training anyone in the use of the Unforgivables. Defensive group will be led and trained by Tonks. Any questions?” Everyone kept silent. “Okay then. The offensive group. Draco, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George.” Everyone raised an eyebrow, despite Harry’s comment about no nepotism, in response to the fact he’d managed to pick his boyfriend and surrogate family so far. Harry seemed to sense the mood. He gritted his teeth and bit back an angry retort. “A reminder, I am choosing on _magical strength_ , not personal favourites. Padma, Michael, and Neville. That completes the offensive group. The rest are in the defensive group with Tonks.” 

Neville looked shell-shocked as he went to join Harry’s side of the room. Draco snorted. “ _Longbottom_?!” he jeered, not bothering to keep his voice down. Harry glared at him. 

“Yes, Neville. He’s strong and brave. Or don’t you remember him being one of only three students who had enough guts to face the Dementors when they attacked Hogsmeade in September? He just lacks self-confidence. You will not ruin his confidence, Draco. I fully believe in you, Neville.” Neville flushed and beamed at Harry, as Ron patted him on the back. Draco looked suitably chastised, and even offered half a smile towards Neville, which was nervously returned. 

“Does anyone wish to not be in the offensive group?” Harry asked. No one spoke. “Okay, then. We’ll be practising the Dark spells Severus and I worked on a few months ago. Defensive group, you will be working on Shield Charms, Patronuses, and counter-jinxes and hexes. Hermione, can I speak with you, please?”

Hermione came over to him, and Harry cast a privacy ward around them. 

“You’re not upset are you, that I’ve not placed you in the offensive group?” Harry asked nervously. Hermione smiled at him.

“Not at all, Harry. I’m relieved. You know Dark magic makes me uncomfortable. Thank you.” She gave Harry a hug, which he returned, before removing the ward and returning to the group. Draco was staring at him. 

“You’re leaving out Hermione?” he asked. Harry sighed. 

“Hermione is an extremely gifted and able witch. But she is uncomfortable with Dark magic and I do not wish to put her in that position,” he replied. “Do not undermine me, Draco.” Draco looked like he wanted to argue but decided to keep quiet. Secretly he was half-hard over the control and power that Harry was exhibiting. It was deeply arousing, in a weird way. How had he missed this all these years? Why had be believed Harry was nothing but a spoilt do-gooding Gryffindor who was only magically mediocre? Harry spoke and everyone listened. He commanded and it was done. Draco shivered, and shook his head at himself for missing all this for years on end. 

“The plan so far,” Harry was saying, and Draco thought he couldn’t have everyone’s attention more if he’d cast a _Sonorous_ on himself, “is to lure Voldemort out of hiding, whilst he’s unsuspecting. The chance of him coming alone is next to zero though. He’ll summon all his Death Eaters, and possibly the giants and the Dementors as well, if he’s suspicious of attack. We’ve not worked out the exact plan yet, but we’re aiming for three weeks’ time. That will take us to the beginning of May. Please remember that you can leave and return to Hogwarts at any time. Okay, now that’s out of the way, Tonks, could you stay here and practise Patronuses with your group, please? My group, we need to go into the garden.”

He led ‘his group’ through the hallways and out into the garden, where spring had burst into bloom. 

“We will only use Dark spells on the Death Eaters if they use Dark spells on us,” Harry said. “We fight fire with fire. However, _Expelliarmus_ is always a good start, if you get the chance. If you Disarm them, they cannot duel you. Simple. The magic you’ll learn with me is in addition to, not instead of, magic you’ve learnt in DADA or during the DA two years’ ago.” He drew his wand and began to show the group _Infesto Apris_ , which caused an infestation of bees to surround the victim and repeatedly sting them, whilst distracting them and preventing escape. 

Harry’s need for an outside location became apparent almost immediately as he demonstrated the spell. Although there was no victim, a huge swarm of bees shot out of Harry’s wand at the incantation and surrounded a small daffodil patch on the far side of the garden- where Harry had been aiming. The bees attacked the flowers for over a minute before Harry uttered a _Finite_ , at which point the bees took off into the sky together, leaving the flowers looking worse for wear. He carefully demonstrated the required wrist action to everyone then set them to work. 

An hour later everyone had mastered the spell, including, Harry was delighted to note, Neville. In fact, he had grasped the spell quicker than most; only Draco, Fred and George were faster. And it was hardly the first time Draco was performing Dark magic anyway, Harry reminded himself. 

“That was excellent,” he told everyone. “Please, do not practise any of these spells outside of this house, but if you could work on other spells- your own Patronuses, Shield Charms etcetera, that would be brilliant. Three weeks doesn’t give me very long to train you, and we won’t have time to revisit those spells we’ve all learnt before. Thank you everyone, I’ll see you next time.”

**** 

Harry noticed Draco looking at him oddly that evening, as he was dressing for bed. “What?” he said, without any heat. Draco smirked at him. 

“You don’t know, do you?” he replied. “The amount of power you ooze. You talk and they listen. And it’s nothing to do with you being The Boy Who Lived. They all respect you, Harry, because they can see you’re the one who’s strong enough to win this fucking war.” He realised, too late, that he was flushed and panting slightly. Harry raised an eyebrow, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, as his eyes deliberately fell onto Draco’s crotch. 

“And how do _you_ feel about it?” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. Draco just swallowed. 

“I…I like it,” he said eventually. He licked his lips and met Harry’s gaze. “Very, very much.”

Harry pounced, pinning Draco to the bed with his hands. He felt Draco surrender to him as he crushed his lips down on the blond’s, mouth open. Draco groaned and arched up his body, crushing his groin into Harry’s rapidly-hardening erection. He pushed back, relishing in the friction, as Draco pulled down both their pyjama bottoms. Once naked, Harry coaxed Draco into a sitting position and Summoned his wand. He performed a quick lubrication charm on his hand, before reaching down and taking both him and Draco in his fist. “You like this, you mean?” he whispered in Draco’s ear, and Draco shivered, from arousal or the feel of breath on his neck, Harry was unsure, but revelled in it nonetheless as he moved his hand over both of them, rapidly bringing them both to the edge. “Oh fuck, Harry,” Draco cried, as Harry ran his hand over the heads of both of their members, causing each of them to moan. “Don’t stop, please, so close, don’t stop.”

As if Harry had any intention of stopping. He leant forwards and rested his head on Draco’s shoulder as he took deep breaths to try and rein in some control. He felt Draco stiffen and heard him let out a gasp, then a warm wetness covered his hand, instantly drawing his own orgasm from him. Harry continued to stroke them both to full completion, before releasing Draco from his grip. Draco reached for Harry’s wand and cleaned them both up, before lazily falling back into the bed. 

“Mmm, yes, to answer your earlier question, yes, I like that,” he said sleepily. “Love you, Harry.”

“I love you, too,” Harry replied, watching the blond as he fell asleep. Three weeks, just twenty-one days, until the final battle. Harry had to admit he was terrified. Not for himself- he’d long-since accepted the very real possibility he wouldn’t live to see twenty. But because of the possibility of Draco not surviving. The idea that Draco could be dead in less than a month filled Harry with a cold dread he’d never felt when he had pictured his own death. He flung an arm protectively around his boyfriend tried to sleep, but rest was a long time coming that night.

**** 

The twelfth of April was Easter Sunday, and also the full moon. Remus had taken Wolfsbane so was harmless, but it did mean he was out of action that night. For this reason, it was decided there would be no Order meeting or any training of the old DA that day. Ron and Hermione had opted to spend Easter at The Burrow, but Harry had remained behind with Snape and Draco. It was just after lunch when Snape approached the pair, who were practising spells in the garden. 

“Harry, there is an issue of importance I wish to discuss with you,” Snape began. Harry dropped the Shield he had erected and Draco was firing hexes at, and turned his attention towards the older man. “I speak specifically of the problem we may face if you try and battle the Dark Lord with your holly and phoenix feather wand. The twin core problem is one we need to address rather urgently, with battle planned for just twenty days’ time from now. We are loath to plan any finer details of battle until we can ensure we’re as ready as possible in other departments. Although I admit I am at a loss as to what to suggest.”

Harry hadn’t forgotten this problem. He even had a solution ready. He reached into his jeans and pulled out his father’s mahogany wand. 

“I’ve been practising with my dad’s wand, too,” he said. “It works really well for me. Not as well as my own, which is why I still plan to use my own for fighting, but once I face Voldemort, I will be proud to use my dad’s wand to wipe Old Snakeface off the face of the Earth.”

To demonstrate, he aimed James’ wand at the apple tree in the garden and cried, “ _Arbor Discoperio!_ ”

All the new spring leaves of the apple tree shuddered then fell neatly to the floor in a pile. Harry once more waved his wand and said, “ _Evanesco,_ ” and the leaves instantly Vanished.

“Your father always was accomplished in Transfiguration,” Snape replied simply, staring at the spot the leaves had landed, then he swooped into the house without a backwards glance. Harry stood, confused. Had Snape just paid his father a compliment, or was he unhappy that Harry was using his wand? He decided that whatever it was to let it go; Harry had access to another wand that he could use well in addition to his own, and that was all that was important at the moment, in his opinion. 

**** 

The following week, after training with the DA had ended, Remus called Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione into the drawing room with the Order. 

“We’ve reached a decision on how to proceed,” Kingsley said calmly. “in the early hours of the morning of the second of May, Severus is going to allow himself to be sighted, Polyjuiced as you, by the Death Eaters in the grounds of Malfoy Manor. He’ll need your Cloak, Harry, to make it look authentic, but will ‘accidentally’ allow it to slip at the right moment. Severus will appear to be searching for something, be unsuccessful, then lead them back to where you’ll apparently be camping in the nearby Savernake Forest. We’ll have genuine wards set up to make it look authentic, but which the Order and the DA will be hidden behind. Then, we fight.”

“Will You-Know-Who definitely go for this, do you think?” asked Ron. 

“Almost certainly,” Harry replied. “Especially if he believes I’m vulnerable. And if he doesn’t, then we just storm in and attack the Manor. Draco can alter the wards on it to let everyone in; not even Voldemort can alter the control of those.”

“It’s preferable to have it outside, though,” Draco said. “The Manor has over a hundred rooms. It will be hard to end it there when we’d end up playing cat-and-mouse for a large portion of it.”

**** 

It’s funny, Harry thought, how time speeds towards something you’re dreading. Before he knew it, it was the first of May and battle was planned for twelve hours’ time. He was physically prepared, the Order and the DA were well-trained, and part of him was excited that the day that had loomed over him for so many years had almost arrived. But the thought of anyone he loved getting hurt tomorrow made him feel physically unwell. And the thought of anything happening to Draco… Harry didn’t allow himself to think those thoughts for fear of falling apart if he did so. 

The Order had left with Apparition coordinates to Savernake Forest and instructions to be behind the wards by five in the morning, and the DA had returned to Hogwarts for the night. Harry had asked McGonagall if Dobby could serve them for the evening, and the house-elf had happily obliged them. 

Dobby had gone all-out with a three course meal, which nobody felt like eating particularly. Harry thought this felt like the Last Supper; the mood was sombre. Remus put down his goblet of wine and cleared his throat, looking directly at Harry whilst reaching for Tonks’ hand. 

“Harry,” he began, and Harry realised Remus was nervous, “we wanted to ask you this tonight, because tomorrow… we might not get the chance.” _It might be too late, you mean,_ Harry thought, and felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought, which he hastily swallowed. “We wanted to ask you if you would do us the honour of being our child’s godfather, once he or she is born? We can think of no one better suited to it.”

Harry beamed, and felt a lump rise in his throat. “Of course I will!” he exclaimed happily, and tucked into his dinner, suddenly more in the mood to eat than he had been. 

The meal continued. Both Ron and Hermione looked pale and exhausted, and Ron was uncharacteristically quiet. He, too, was only picking at his food, which was unheard of. Hermione kept making small involuntary twitches, whilst offering words of comfort to the others. Snape was silent, and not eating at all. He looked even more pallid than usual, and had his head bowed low. Harry knew it would be close to a miracle if this time tomorrow they were all sitting at this very table unharmed. 

“Any more thoughts on the spell you’ll use on Voldemort tomorrow, Harry?” Remus asked. Harry shook his head. To be honest he did have an idea, and he had a suspicion it wasn’t going to be Dark or need to be an Unforgivable. As if he read his mind, Draco spoke up. 

“And if it comes down to it, can you use the Killing Curse?” he asked gently. Harry had not told Ron and Hermione about the incident back in August with the three Unforgivables. He had vowed then never to use Avada Kedavra. But if it was a case of using that or letting someone he loved die, letting Draco die… it was no contest. 

“I will hate it. But, yes, if it comes to it tomorrow, I will cast it,” Harry said. “I’ll do anything in my power to keep you all safe.”

“We should all get some rest,” Snape said finally. “Tomorrow is going to be an eventful day.” He stood to rise. “Gentlemen, Miss Granger. It’s been a pleasure working with you all these past few months and I am honoured to have shared this experience with you all.” Then he swept out of the room in the way Harry had seen him do so many times in the Potions lab at Hogwarts, without a backwards glance. Draco squeezed his hand. 

“I’ll be in our room,” he whispered, and disappeared, clearly giving Harry some time alone with his friends. 

“Harry,” Hermione’s arms were wide and inviting. Harry engulfed himself in them. “We’ll be OK, you know. We’re going to get through this.” Harry kissed her on the cheek as he broke the hug. 

“I love you, Hermione,” he said, wiping a single tear from her eye. 

“I love you, too,” she whispered, before burying her face in Ron’s chest, shoulders shaking. 

“Mate…” Harry began, but Ron cut him off.

“We’re not doing this, Harry. Like saying a goodbye. We’re going to be fine tomorrow. Hermione’s right.” Harry ignored the fact Ron was trembling, and simply nodded. Ron gave Harry a simple smile and he and Hermione, too, left the room. 

He turned to Remus and Tonks, but suddenly found his voice failed him. He settled for giving them both a hug instead, before going in search of Draco.

****

“You can stay here tomorrow, Draco, where you’ll be safe,” Harry whispered, as the pair lay together in the dark that night. “Keep safe. For me.”

Draco reached out for Harry’s hand and squeezed it tightly in his own. 

“Seven months ago I may well have taken you up on that,” Draco replied honestly, and reached out a hand to caress Harry’s face. “But not now. Tomorrow I stand by your side, and nothing you can say is going to remove me. I will fight beside you, and die beside you, if that’s what it comes to, tomorrow. You have irrevocably changed me, and all for the better. I admit I never understood you, with your ‘there are things worth dying for’ ideals. Now I do. You’ve taught me the meaning of love, and I love you, completely, undeniably, and unwaveringly, Harry James Potter. And tomorrow I will be right there with you as I watch you wipe Voldemort from the face of the Earth.”

Harry’s mouth dropped into a small, trembling ‘O’ shape, and he wiped the sudden wetness from his eyes. _You bloody Hufflepuff,_ he scorned himself as he wrapped his arms tightly around Draco.

“Make love to me,” he whispered. He heard the blond’s breath hitch then he was being kissed, so tenderly and gently, full of all the love that Draco had just declared, reminding Harry that he was _alive_ as nerves tingled throughout his body. The nerve endings danced and flickered as Draco unbuttoned Harry’s pyjamas and removed them, before removing his own, they prickled as Draco worshipped his body, kissing every inch his lips could reach, they jumped in ecstasy when Draco’s hot, wet mouth engulfed him, and they burned with passion as Draco’s tongue expertly and lovingly breached his body, before the tongue was replaced by fingers, crooking to reach just _that_ spot that made Harry’s world explode. 

“I love you,” Draco gasped breathlessly as he entered Harry, watching as Harry closed his eyes and bit his lip, an expression of pure bliss on his face. Draco leant forwards and captured Harry’s mouth in his, wordlessly proclaiming his devotion, his adoration of the man beneath him, as Harry panted into Draco’s open mouth and arched up to meet the gentle thrusts from his lover’s hips, rocking them both into delight, connecting them, joining them, and completing them, as they gasped, and shuddered, and came together, fingers digging in possessively to one another as they each claimed the other as their own.

Harry was unsurprised to find he was crying as Draco withdrew from him. He reached up a trembling hand to wipe tears away from Draco’s own face, never breaking the eye contact, before just pulling him tightly into an embrace, clinging to him for dear life, and Draco clung back just as tightly, as the pair wept softly together. 

It was hours later when Harry was finally asleep. Draco exited the bed, threw on his bathrobe, and sat at his writing table.

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_So the day has arrived. This is what I’ve been fighting towards now for eight months, but Harry all his life. At dawn tomorrow, battle commences. The end is nigh for the Dark Lord, Father. Neither can live while the other survives, and tomorrow I will do everything in my power to ensure it is Harry emerging victorious._

_Harry is asleep, finally, in our bed. He looks so peaceful, yet I know his rest is troubled. I love him with everything I am and everything I have, and he returns my love. I just couldn’t go into combat tomorrow without you knowing this. I’m not ashamed of him, and, if I do not survive the fight tomorrow, I needed you both to know that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were very much together, as I know you’ve suspected for some time, Mother. Harry saved me in more ways than you will ever know that night back in July. He taught me to be better than I thought I ever could be. In the morning I just pray to all the deities that I get to save him too._

_It is ironic, Mother, that I am to do battle in an area that was a haven for me as a child. Savernake was always a wondrous place for me as a boy. No doubt He will call you, Father, to the fight in the morning, as he will call Severus and me, and anyone else he’s Marked with his own personal brand of Evil. Please stay safe behind your wards. We are well-prepared._

__

 

_This will not be the final letter I ever write. I intend to survive. But if my intentions prove unfruitful, I needed you both to know I was honoured to be your son._

_Love,_

_Draco Malfoy._


	18. Checkmate, Part One

Harry and Draco awoke extremely early, tanged together so tightly that it would have been impossible to slither a sheet of parchment between them. They didn’t speak; both were simply content to stare at each other, both desperately praying this wasn’t the last time they would wake up together. Harry simply kissed the top of Draco’s head, confining to memory every single detail about the blond- his scent, the way he feels, the feel of his heartbeat thundering against his own chest. 

Finally it was time to rise from their bed; they dressed in silence then stood together, staring out of their window, as they watched the first prickles of sunlight rising above the horizon of London’s skyline. They met Ron and Hermione coming from their own room, both pale and looking as if they had experienced a similar night to them, as they headed towards the kitchen, where Remus, Tonks and Snape were already assembled. Everyone merely picked at their breakfasts in silence, no one really eating anything, before Snape, Polyjuiced as Harry, left for Malfoy Manor and the others Apparated to the pretend camp the Order had set up in Savernake Forest.

The Order, with the addition of three highly trusted Aurors Kingsley had personally invited, were already stationed in a small clearing of trees as they arrived, and Ron instantly went to stand with the rest of the Weasleys, hugging his family close. Harry could see Professor McGonagall leading the group of students to the camp a few hundred feet away. 

“All righ’, Harry?” called a familiar voice, and Harry turned to see Hagrid striding up with the Hogwarts students. He wondered how he’d missed the man to begin with, but his heart was lightened. He’d not seen his oldest friend in nearly a year. 

“How are you, Hagrid?” he asked as Hagrid crushed him into a hug.

“Ter tell yeh the truth, Harry, I’m scared yeh goin’ ter get hurt, but I have faith in yeh,” Hagrid said. “Yeh’ll do well, lad.”

Harry gave his giant friend a sad smile. “I’ll do my best, Hagrid,” he replied quietly. 

As soon as everyone was assembled in the clearing, Kingsley, Minerva, Arthur and Bill began to erect the wards that would give the impression of a genuine camp. Minutes later, Snape’s silver doe Patronus streaked through the trees, giving the warning that the Death Eaters had followed him. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hand vice-tight in Draco’s. 

“Okay, everyone,” he said, as the talking died immediately. “That was Snape’s Patronus. It means the Death Eaters took the bait and are following. Positions, everyone, and good luck.”

The DA defensive group, led by Tonks and Hermione, immediately left the camp and hid, Disillusioned, amongst the trees. Harry’s offensive group and the Order of the Phoenix prepared themselves, as the form of Snape, restored to his own features now the Polyjuice had worn off, entered the camp. Harry looked up and gave the older man a questioning look. 

“No issues, Harry,” Snape replied, correctly interpreting Harry’s expression. “I managed to draw enough attention to rouse the suspicion of Rookwood and Rodolphus Lestrange; they followed me back to camp but I managed to stay far enough ahead once the Polyjuice wore off that I was able to return here without being seen again. They fell for our ploy, and are off to report their findings to the Dark Lord at this very minute.”

The group had sat in near silence for another minute, when suddenly Draco and Severus both involuntarily grabbed their left forearms simultaneously and hissed in pain. 

“He’s summoning the Death Eaters,” Draco rasped, and discreetly rolled up the left sleeve of his top so only Harry could see. The Mark was burning stronger and darker than Harry had ever seen it; the skin surrounding it reddened and irritated. “I’ve never felt a summons this powerful. He means business, Harry. Either way, this ends today.”

At Draco’s words there was a sudden onslaught of loud _Cracks_ which indicated Apparition. The Death Eaters had arrived. 

“We know you’re in there, Potter,” said the hideously familiar voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. “Now how about you come out to play? Our Lord has waited a long time to have this little _meeting_.”

Harry took a deep breath and gave Draco a quick but passionate kiss, not caring less who could see them. 

“I love you,” he said, his voice steadier and more controlled than he felt, reluctantly releasing Draco from his grip as his offensive group and the Order of the Phoenix prepared to fight. They drew their wands as one and waited, as the Death eaters began to dismantle the wards around the fake camp.

As soon as the wards were down, the Order attacked. Tonks and Hermione, as discussed, erected swift Anti-Disapparition wards to prevent the Death Eaters from escaping, and Harry caught the first unsuspecting and shocked Death Eater with a Stunning Spell straight to the chest. The force of the spell rendered the woman unconscious. Harry noticed, with satisfaction, that several other Death Eaters also fell from the strength of the Order’s attack. The Death Eaters stood motionless for merely a few seconds as the realisation they had been tricked sank in, before recovering some sense of composure, and an onslaught of curses rained down. Harry realised, to his dismay, that Voldemort was not amongst the fighting group of Death Eaters, which outnumbered his own side significantly. The bastard had sent his minions in to do his dirty work for him. As he aimed his wand, and sent an _Incendio_ at the robes of another opponent, instantly causing them to catch fire, he knew that the final battle really had, truly, begun. He growled as he turned his attention to Crabbe Senior, and raised his wand once more, preparing to fight.

**** 

Remus had let out an instinctive snarl when he noticed Greyback arrive into the foray about twenty minutes into the battle, and saw, with satisfaction, Greyback’s curse aimed at Fred blocked by a Shield Charm cast by one of the defensive team. With a final _Incarcerous_ to the back of Aleco Carrow, he left her bound figure for Ginny Weasley to Stun and Disarm before tearing after the beast who had infected him with lycanthropy at such a young age. His heart sank when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the bloodied and lifeless body of Michael Corner lying awkwardly next to the trees. He sighed and quickly moved it out of the way of battle. Turning his attention back to Greyback, Remus drew his lips over his teeth and growled, allowing his feral instincts and hatred for the werewolf to dominate. He trained his wand on the beast and uttered his first incantation at the same time as Greyback responded with the choking curse that Voldemort had used to kill Wormtail, which Remus managed to avoid. Both men were clearly fighting to the death. 

Spell after spell passed between the men. The clearing in which they did battle was empty apart from the two of them; jets of light of all colours were flying in all directions as the two enemies battled for dominance; Remus having narrowly avoided the Killing Curse on two separate occasions before firing one of his own back, which also narrowly missed. He recovered quickly and fired a Stunning Spell, which hit its target but caused Greyback to merely falter for a few steps, before casting _Confringo._ The spell hit Remus, which blasted him back into the trees whilst the ground in front of him caught fire. He grinned a feral, determined grin as he saw the shock register on Greyback’s face, when, instead of having to deal with the flames himself, one of the defensive team cast _Aguamenti_ and Remus was able to reply almost instantly with a well-placed Entrail-Expelling Curse, which hit its unsuspecting target like a dart striking a bullseye.

Greyback howled, despite the full moon being another nine days away still, and dropped to all fours, his intestines hanging sickeningly from his abdomen. Remus smirked in triumph as he performed a complex charm to tie the intestines in a knot, which causes a fatal blockage in the large intestine and resulted in a heart attack. Greyback’s eyes widened in surprise before rolling back into his head, his exposed skin taking on a sallow colour as his heart gave its final beat. Remus lowered his wand, gasping for breath, but allowed a triumphant and vengeful smile to creep up his face.

“That was for everyone you ever deliberately infected!” he yelled at Greyback’s body, the creature who had all but ruined his life. He spat on the corpse, feeling no remorse for the use of the barely-legal curses that had cost Greyback his life, and instantly went off towards the main battle to help out the rest of the Order.

**** 

Hermione was panting as she paused, hidden behind the Disillusionment Charm, to catch her breath. So far, so good; the Order had incapacitated or killed several Death Eaters, with only the loss of Michael Corner from their own side. She and Luna had been working mainly as a pair. Her hardest challenge so far had been protecting Remus in his fight against Greyback; Protego after Protego had been cast and she had only just managed to send the counter-charm to a couple of nasty hexes Greyback had thrown in time, whilst Luna had been the one to rapidly cast the Aguamenti Charm. It was a relief, if Hermione was being honest, when Remus had finally killed him. Fenrir Greyback was no loss to the world. She didn’t have time to rest, however; both her’s and Luna’s heads snapped round when they heard a muffled anguished cry. The sight that greeted them had the pair setting off in pursuit as they threw protective charm after protective charm into the clearing. 

Professor McGonagall was on the floor, her elderly body writhing, as Yaxley held the Hogwarts Headmistress under the Cruciatus Curse, his face contorted into an evil sneer. Hermione felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes; Minerva was not a young woman and the Curse was taking every ounce of strength from her. 

“We can’t just not do anything,” Luna said desperately. “She’s suffering. We have to help.” 

Hermione agreed, but there was only one thing she could think of that would allow them to go undetected. Internal war with herself won, she bit her lip, nodding, before raising her wand and uttering, for the first time in her life, “ _Imperio._ ”

The shock of successfully casting an Unforgivable nearly made Hermione drop the spell, but she gritted her teeth and held it, commanding Yaxley to end the Cruciatus Curse. The power that flowed through her arm felt strong, powerful, and in that brief moment, Hermione could see why the Dark Arts could be addictive. They truly were dangerous. 

After the Curse was fully lifted from Professor McGonagall, Hermione then commanded Yaxley to snap his own wand, before Luna Summoned the shattered fragments of wood. Yaxley then began to walk calmly away, paying no attention to any of his surroundings. 

“What are you making him do now?” Luna whispered, transfixed and wide-eyed. 

“To surrender,” Hermione replied. “He’s going to hand his wand over to the Order and give himself up. Come on, we need to get to Professor McGonagall.”

As the two Disillusioned figured approached, however, it was obvious they were too late. The woman’s breathing was far too shallow and slow, her skin the colour of pewter. She reached out a freezing, clammy hand and groped blindly by her left side, before Hermione grasped it tightly in her own, tears falling. 

“You did so well, Miss. Granger,” Minerva rasped, and Hermione didn’t ask how she knew it was her. “There is nothing else you could have done. You have done everything I would expect of a Gryffindor today, and I am so proud to be called your Head of House. Thank you.” McGonagall took one final breath, and then was still, her body unable to sustain the vigorous torment of Crucio. Luna and Hermione wept quietly together for a few moments before Levitating their Headmistress’ body into a large alcove of an oak, hiding it from the Death Eaters’ view, before forcing themselves to return to the fight.

**** 

Severus was fed up. Despite his finest efforts he had only managed to kill three Death Eaters so far. Two with a Killing Curse and one with Abscido Totalum, the limb-severing curse that Harry had outright refused to learn. He casually flicked his wand as Nott Senior approached him, causing the man to scream as the nonverbal Sectumsempra hit him. He sighed, wishing that this battle hadn’t have been necessary before Harry could reach the Dark Lord. Severus looked around the clearing with some satisfaction and more than a little surprise; Longbottom had just floored one Death Eater with the Obdormio sleeping curse before setting an entire hive of angry bees at another. He may have to re-evaluate his opinion of the formerly abysmal student once this battle was over, Severus thought approvingly. Longbottom was more than holding his own, and had nothing except a minor gash on his right cheek in terms of injuries.

Severus paused from battle to watch the Weasley twins in action. Not for the first time, Severus reluctantly thought, he wondered if the boys shouldn’t have been Sorted into Slytherin. One of them- George, Snape thought, given that he only had one ear- was casting _Aqua Eructo_ on a masked opponent; the brilliant-blue jet of water had actually managed to lift the man off his feet and he was precariously balanced atop of the stream. Fred grinned at his twin, pointed his wand, and cast _Ebublio._ Severus watched in interest as the Death Eater began to inflate, before finally exploding into a thousand Transfigured bubbles, which the twins happily popped between them whilst whistling the Muggle song, ‘I’m forever blowing bubbles.’ Even in a situation of life and death, the pair had to make a joke. The corners of Severus’ mouth twitched up into an approving half-smile which the twins returned by bowing in a mock gesture to him. 

“They fly so high…”

“Nearly reach the sky…”

Snape’s lips curled one final time, before leaving the pair to enjoy their work.

He took a few minutes to survey the scene. Despite being initially outnumbered, the Order definitely had the upper-hand now. Voldemort was, Severus was sure, hiding in Malfoy Manor. _Well, if it’s in the Manor the fight ends, so be it_ , Severus thought, as once more he raised his wand and began duelling his latest opponent.

**** 

“ _Protego_!” Lavender said, in barely more than a whisper. As hard as she had tried, she had not managed to master the Shield Charm nonverbally, much to her chagrin. Thankfully she was able to cast it in a low voice, and with the noise in the battle, she went unnoticed. She sighed in relief as the Shield was erected between Bill Weasley and Gregory Goyle’s father, not a second too soon as Goyle Senior fired a jet of turquoise light which signalled the Morbus Egresco curse straight at Bill. She heard Tonks’ sharp intake of breath next to her as the light bounced off the shield and narrowly avoided hitting its caster. 

Tonks had erected another Shield between Arthur Weasley and his opponent. The Death Eater raised his wand in frustration, and aimed it straight at Mr Weasley, who was coming off worse in his duel, and sporting what appeared to be a broken wand arm in addition to many other injuries. A vicious sneer was plastered on his face.

“ _Avada-”_

Tonks panicked. Forgetting completely the instructions given by Harry and the Order to keep concealed at all times and not to perform any spells that draw attention to them, and desperate to do anything to prevent the Killing Curse being sent at Arthur, she pointed her wand straight at the Death Eater, and cried, verbally, “ _Expelliarmus!”_

The Death Eater’s wand flew out of his hand and zoomed towards the forest, before he could complete the second part of the incantation. He whirled round in shock, staring into the apparent emptiness of the trees, before he seemed to work out what was going on. The realisation dawned over him, and he let out a humourless laugh. He snarled then reached into his robes, pulling out another, concealed, wand, and before Tonks could react to this unpleasant surprise, he cried for a second time, “ _Avada Kedavra!”_

The curse was shot blindly into the clearing. Tonks gasped and ducked, instinctively cradling her bump in her hands, noticing as she did so that the green light was aimed about a foot to the left of her body. Suddenly the light stuck a target, and Tonks felt a weight fall against her side. 

“Oh, no…” she said softly, as she lowered the weight to the ground, just as she saw Snape strike the Death Eater with a Killing Curse of his own. “Fuck…”

The area cleared of Death Eaters, she cast _Finite_ on the weight to remove the Disillusionment Charm and revealed the lifeless form of Lavender, surprised eyes wide and disbelieving.Tonks clasped a hand over her mouth, knowing it was her mistake that had cost Lavender her life. _It’s my fault she’s dead_ , Tonks thought to herself, as she began to shake uncontrollably. She may have saved Arthur but in doing so Lavender had paid the ultimate price. With trembling, unsteady fingers, she reached out to touch Lavender’s face, closing pale eyelids over unseeing brown eyes, offering a silent apology to the girl as her own tears began to fall. 

****

Ron had gained the upper hand in his duel, finally. He was sporting a large and painful gash to his left arm from where he was hit by a _Diffindo_ spell, but he considered himself lucky it hadn’t had been worse; just as the spell was cast at him a Shield was erected in front of him and it only caught one exposed limb, whilst Ron managed to Blast his opponent backwards with a powerful _Reducto_. Not for the first time since battle had commenced did he inwardly praise Harry’s tactics; it seemed the Death Eaters had not, yet, noticed the fighters amongst the trees protecting Harry’s side, allowing their opponents to focus purely on offensive spells. 

He sent a final Stunning Spell towards Avery, and smirked when then man was rendered unconscious. He bent down to retrieve and snap his opponent’s wand before binding him in ropes, but had only seconds to savour in his victory; an ear-splitting scream only a few yards from him sent his blood running cold. Without pausing to heal his arm, he took off towards the scream. For the sound had been all-too familiar; it was Ginny who was under torture. 

She was on the floor, body twitching in agony, as a long and lanky masked Death Eater applied the Cruciatus Curse on her. Even Harry’s defensive group couldn’t defend against the Unforgivables, and Ron knew they had been warned not to perform any offensive spells of their own as it would give them away. Ginny was suffering horribly. Ron was more angry, and frightened, than he’d ever felt in his life before. Blood thundering furiously through Ron’s head, and desperate to do anything to relieve his Ginny’s suffering, he raised his wand and cast _Sectumsempra_ on the bastard who was hurting his sister. 

Ron had never seen the effects of the spell before; he had only heard about it from Harry’s recounts after he had cast it on both Draco and Rowle. He reeled back in shock as the Death Eater robes belonging to his victim slashed open, as did the wretched man’s chest. The Cruciatus Cruse broken, Ron cradled a whimpering Ginny in his arms as he looked on in horror as the man’s chest opened and he began to bleed profusely from the slashes. The Death Eater fell to the floor, helplessly clutching his own chest, desperately trying to stop the blood flow that wouldn’t let up. A minute later his movements were weakened and his breathing audibly laboured; thirty seconds later and he was still, all life extinguished. Ron took one look at the masked corpse and promptly retched, vomiting into the bush next to him, whilst Ginny was crying. 

“Ron!” she wept, sounding hysterical. “Oh God no, Ron! You’ve killed him!” 

Ron looked at her, confused. Ginny looked over at the bloodied remains. “I… I recognised the voice,” she said, more frightened than she had sounded whilst under Crucio. “Take off the mask. If it’s who I think it is… oh, _fuck_.”

Ron shakily made his way over to the body, and reached a trembling hand out to remove the mask. Once it was off he recoiled in shock and his knees gave way.

“Percy,” he said softly, and the tears began to fall in earnest as he looked down on the slashed remains of his brother. The brother who had turned his back on his family and joined Voldemort. The brother who tortured his own sister; the brother whom Ron had just killed. Ron began to sob.

****

Draco aimed his wand and floored his current opponent with a Stunning Spell, before binding him in ropes, Summoning the Death Eater’s wand and promptly snapping the wood in two. He had barely broken a sweat. He heard a small round of applause coming from a nearby tree and immediately trained his wand on the noise. He instantly lowered it again and his heart leapt into his mouth when he saw who was standing there watching him, his face breaking into a genuine smile.

“That was rather impressive, Draco,” Narcissa Malfoy said approvingly. “I do believe you were correct in your assessment that Harry Potter has been good for you.”

“Mother, I told you not to come,” Draco said, as he ran over to Narcissa and pulled her into a deep embrace, burying his face in her blonde hair. “But it’s so good to see you, even in these less than ideal circumstances. Where’s Father?”

“Fighting,” Narcissa replied, and Draco thought he could hear pride in her voice. “Your father Flooed to France over Christmas and procured a new wand. We’ve been unable to aid you for the past eight months, and we owe Mr Potter the courtesy of repaying some of the gratitude we feel towards him. The last I saw your father, he had just applied the Blood Boiling Curse to Walden McNair. The wretched man did scream, so, until he eventually gave in to death.” Draco winced at his father’s blasé use of Dark curses as he remembered Harry’s account of Wormtail’s torture from it, but pulled his mother back into the embrace. Narcissa stroked a lock of hair out of her son’s eyes and ran her hand over his cheek. 

“I’m extremely proud of you, my son,” she said. “My only wish for you, and has been now since his resurrection, was that you would survive the Dark Lord and be happy. That you wouldn’t have to become involved too heavily in this mess in which your father has involved us. I love you, Draco. I loved you the minute you were placed in my arms for the very first time and that will never change.” 

Draco swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat and once more pulled his mother tightly against his chest. Neither saw Bellatrix Lestrange approaching the pair from behind a large oak tree. 

Harry had just sent a Blasting Curse at Amycus Carrow, who was now out cold after the force of his spell sent the Death Eater flying before cracking the back of his head against a tree, and turned when he heard a disturbance in the woods. The scene that confronted him played out in front of him in agonising slow motion, although in reality it was over so quickly he had no chance to intervene. He saw Bellatrix raise her wand, and train it on the embracing couple in the forest. He heard the incantation for the Killing Curse leave her triumphant lips. He watched on in horror as his cry of warning died in his throat; his voice failing him, his knees buckling under him, as the emerald-green jet of light streaked through the trees, just inches away now, hurtling towards an unsuspecting and unknowing Draco.


	19. Checkmate, Part Two

   
  
---  
  
arry screwed his eyes tight as he heard Bellatrix’s cruel laugh, unwilling to witness the scene unfolding in front of him. His heart broke and he let out an involuntary wail of agony to join that of Narcissa’s panicked scream, which was swiftly followed by a sickening thud as the spell collided and a body collapsed, dead-weight, to the forest floor. 

Emotions such as Harry had never experienced before in his life overwhelmed him. The loss of Dumbledore, Sirius- that was nothing, _nothing_ , compared to how he felt now. Rage and grief, so powerful he thought himself likely to explode, flooded over him. Hatred he’d not even felt for Voldemort surged through his every fibre. Harry didn’t know it was possible to feel loathing stronger than that he felt for him; that was, of course, until Bellatrix had taken yet another person Harry loved away from him. The person Harry loved more than anyone else in the world. He wanted to hurt her more than he’d wanted to hurt any other individual in his life; to make her pay for what she had done. Without further hesitation, he aimed his wand squarely at Bellatrix and cried, “ _Crucio!”_

He had no doubts this time that the spell had worked. It slammed into Bellatrix, the force so powerful it knocked her flat to the ground as her ear-splitting shrieks of agony reverberated throughout the forest. 

“I know what you mean now,” Harry choked, fruitlessly trying to blink back the tears that had fully obscured his vision, “when you told me you really had to mean it. I’m going to break every bone in your fucking evil body.” Bellatrix screamed and howled, but Harry was merciless. He was in danger of snapping and losing who he was, he knew that, and a small part of him said he was no better than Bellatrix for enjoying the torture. At this moment, however, Harry couldn’t care less what that part of him had to say.

He had no idea how long he had applied the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix for so far. Seconds or minutes, they meant nothing any more. Time no longer mattered. Nothing did- not his friends, not Voldemort. All that mattered was causing Bellatrix so much physical pain she would wish she had never been born, before he wiped her out of existence. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” he sobbed, adjusting the aim of his wand slightly to ensure the Cruciatus Curse concentrated on another part of her body, and Bellatrix’s consciousness ebbed away. 

“Harry…”

Only that voice could have reached him at that moment, forcing him to slip back into his lucid mind. He reeled around in shock, never once dropping the Cruciatus Curse on his now helpless victim, and wept a fresh wave of tears when he saw Draco, alive and perfectly uninjured, staggering towards him. He was white-faced and unstable on his feet, the lifeless form of Narcissa Malfoy cradled tenderly in his arms. The momentary overwhelming relief Harry felt at seeing Draco alive, however, was instantly replaced with fresh heartbreak; sorrow for Draco, who seemed devastated in a way Harry had never witnessed in someone else before.

“Bellatrix. The Killing Curse. I didn’t…” Draco trailed off as he sank to his knees, gently laying his mother’s body on the ground, before covering her protectively with his own body, his shoulders heaving in waves of grief. 

“I didn’t see it coming,” Draco rasped. Harry looked quickly at Bellatrix, now clearly unconscious and going nowhere, and dropped the Curse. He could deal with her in a minute. Right now Draco needed him. He crossed swiftly to Draco and drew him close to his chest, clinging so tightly he thought he had cut off the blood supply, savouring his scent, savouring his warmth the the feel of Draco’s pulse against his own skin. Draco collapsed into Harry’s arms, squeezing back just as forcefully as Harry held him, and cried in earnest.

“Mother… she saw the light coming straight for me at the last second and pushed me out of the way,” he gasped shakily through his tears.“But to move me she had to step into the path of the Curse. Because of this it hit her instead. She knew it was going to. She fucking _knew_ and she still made the decision to get me safe. She died to protect me.” 

Harry held Draco for many more minutes, aware that the battle with the Death Eaters was winding down. The Order had assembled those who were still alive in the middle of the field, whilst those who had been killed were laid out in rows. The losses from their side had, thankfully, been minimal in comparison, although Harry felt fresh tears prickling when he recognised the lifeless forms of McGonagall, Michael and Lavender. He sighed a huge sigh of relief when he spotted the Weasleys (minus Percy, whom Harry had already been informed about) all safe, along with Snape, Remus and Tonks. From what he could tell, Harry was pleased to see, the injuries from their side could be described as ‘walking wounded’ and were nearly all superficial. Snape and Lupin were applying Healing Charms and Dittany to those who needed it. Through the clearing Harry could make out Lucius Malfoy fighting a duel with a Death Eater. He realised with an unpleasant jolt he did not yet know about his wife’s killing. 

Just then the figure of Bellatrix stirred slightly and began to groan. Harry drew his wand again but Draco was quicker; the loss of Narcissa had caused him to snap and he released Harry, ran over to the woman who had killed his mother and, forsaking all magic, kicked the woman straight in the side of her head with every ounce of strength in him. Again and again, Draco repeatedly drew his foot back before driving it into Bellatrix’s skull; each time his foot made contact with her head there was an audible crunch and grinding noise as the bones shifted and separated. Harry winced but refused to take his eyes away from Draco for even a second. 

“You-” _kick_ “evil-” _kick_ “fucking-” _kick_ “cunt!” Draco screamed. “She was your sister! I’m going to kick your fucking head off your shoulders!” He then rained a torrent of abuse down on the shell of Bellatrix Lestrange.

It was very obvious to Harry from his vantage point that Bellatrix had died, and probably soon after the first couple of kicks. Her skull had taken on a very bizarre shape as it concaved and there was some grey matter leaking out of a gash where a shard of white was protruding from the side of her head. Trickles of blood were pouring from her nostrils, mouth and ears. Harry fought down the nausea as he watched Draco lose control, knowing that Draco needed, had, to do this, whilst sending his silent, desperate thanks to Narcissa for saving her son and sacrificing herself.

“Cissy!” Harry briefly closed his eyes, thinking the hysterical cry from Lucius Malfoy sounded all the more terrible as the man simply did not become hysterical. Lucius ran over to his wife, and took her into her arms. “Oh, my Narcissa,” he whispered, burying his face in her hair. He was evidently fighting to retain an ounce of control. “Potter, where is Draco?” Harry could hear the panic in is voice. 

“Draco is fine,” Harry replied shakily. “Well, he’s physically unharmed, at least- I don’t think ‘fine’ is probably the right word. He’s currently in the process of kicking Bellatrix literally to death.” He paused and correctly interpreted Lucius’ questioning look.“It was her who cast the Killing Curse. It… it was meant for Draco, but it hit Mrs Malfoy instead.” Harry halted as he felt the lump rising in his throat once more, and rubbed a hand over his face, unwilling to break down in front of Lucius bloody Malfoy of all people. 

Lucius nodded once and stood, before going over to his son. Draco saw his father approach and stopped kicking Bellatrix’s corpse. Instead he stood rigid, eyes wide and distraught, not knowing what do do. He looked like a lost little boy. Harry’s heart ached once more for his boyfriend when he saw Lucius break down and take Draco into his arms, and Draco began to sob into his father’s robes. Footsteps approaching him drew his attention away from the scene. It was Hermione. 

“Harry,” she said softly. “Come here.”

Harry hugged her close, burying his face in her neck. 

“I really thought he was dead,” he rasped, not bothering to prevent the tears this time. 

“Give them a few minutes,” she said gently, looking over to where the Malfoys were grieving, knowing Harry was reluctant to leave Draco at the moment. “All the Death Eaters are either captured or dead. I know this is asking the impossible, Harry, but you need to put this out of your mind for now. This is nearly over, so nearly over. Snape has located Voldemort in the Manor and managed to get a Tracking Charm on him. It’s time to end this.”

Harry nodded and, sensing Draco and his father needed one another at the moment, followed Hermione into the clearing where the surviving Order members and students were gathered. He could see Ron, white-faced and shaken, being comforted by the rest of the Weasleys; evidently they didn’t blame him for Percy’s death. There were a few people pulling disgusted faces as they drank Skele-Gro, or downing vials of pain relieving draughts that Snape had brought with him, but Harry was just relieved to see that the majority were alive. His heart broke again when he saw the fallen from the corner of his eyes, but forced himself to look away as he sat on the floor and was handed a canteen of water by Luna, which he drank gratefully. 

Many people asked him with genuine fear or concern where Draco was, and Harry ended up explaining to everyone as a group what had happened. He felt a jolt of pride and acceptance when he realised everyone was relieved to hear he was, physically at least, okay. The shock of thinking he had lost Draco for good was beginning to subside now, and all his pain was reserved for his boyfriend. 

A few minutes later, a very shaken-up and pallid Draco made his way alone to camp, and sat next to Harry without saying anything, merely content to hold Harry’s hand tightly and rest his head on his shoulder. Harry leant back against him momentarily. 

“Draco, I’ve got to go,” he said softly. “Severus has located Voldemort. It ends here and now.”

“Make sure you fucking annihilate him,” was Draco’s meek reply. He sounded exhausted. Harry forced a smile onto his face.

“I promise I’ll do my best,” he replied. 

**** 

Ten minutes later and a very surprised Auror Department, arranged by Kingsley, had arrested the bound Death Eaters and carted them off to the Ministry, and removed the bodies of the dead. A team of Obliviators were Modifying the memories of three Muggles who had witnessed part of the battle whilst walking their dogs and were now hysterical. Harry, along with Draco, Snape, Remus, Ron and Hermione were making their way to Malfoy Manor, on which Lucius had altered the wards for them. Draco was still incredibly white and shaken, but had glared defiantly at Harry when he suggested Draco remain behind. However he gripped Harry’s hand tightly in his own and refused to relent the hold for even a second. Harry glanced over towards his two best friends, both of whom had fought superbly against the Death Eaters, and saw Ron was in a similar condition to Draco, clinging to Hermione like a lifeline. Harry reasoned it was going to take a long time for Ron to recover from inadvertently killing his own sibling, even if that sibling had been torturing Ginny. 

They approached the drive of Malfoy Manor with trepidation; neither Snape nor Remus could identify any wards or spells other than those added by Lucius himself, but no one doubted for a second Voldemort would have set traps against them if he was able to. In the end Snape concluded that the Manor’s wards were so ancient that no one of non-Malfoy blood would be able to alter them at all, including insane megalomaniacs, despite the Dark Lord’s best efforts. 

The sextet cautiously made their way towards the Manor’s entrance; Draco had finally relaxed the hold on Harry’s hand and had his own wand drawn and ready, whilst he surveyed their surroundings carefully. Harry realised his heart was thumping at about a hundred beats a minute and so fiercely he felt as if it was trying to escape his chest. Although he was fearful as to what was about to happen in the next hour he was, in many ways, excited and relieved. However it played out from now on, this was finally going to end, one way or another, today. 

The entrance hall looked much the same as it had all those months ago when Harry had rescued Draco. So much had changed since then; now was not, however, the time for nostalgia and reminiscence. Snape held out his wand in the palm of his hand, much like a compass, and whispered a complicated charm. The wand spun around, obviously indicating Voldemort’s location, and he took off towards a large set of beech doors, the others all following wordlessly in tow. 

Harry thought how strange it was not to have a connection to Voldemort at this time. There was no tell-tale prickle in his forehead that the Dark Lord was close to him, nor did Harry have any clue as to the man’s emotions. Did he know his Death Eaters were all gone? Was he angry, or frightened at the moment? Snape kept the wand in his hand as they walked; barely a minute later it spun again, indicating right, which was the entrance to the Malfoy library. The wand vibrated lightly in Snape’s hand, giving them no doubts that Voldemort was behind the doors. Harry aimed his wand and, swallowing heavily and taking a deep breath to try and control his nerves, he pushed open the doors.

Voldemort was standing with his back facing them, staring out of a large, ornately-dressed window overlooking the Manor’s grounds. He turned when he heard them enter, giving them a terrible smile. 

“That’s quite an impressive number you did on my Death Eaters, Potter,” he said, his high voice barely audible. 

“It’s over, Riddle,” Harry uttered, mustering as much contempt as he could in his words. He was proud that his voice was steady and not betraying his true emotions at this moment. 

“That it is, young Harry,” Voldemort replied. “It is over for you, and your worthless friends. You were foolish to come here today. You must know by now that I, Lord Voldemort, cannot be destroyed.”

“Oh, but you can,” Harry retorted. “I’ve known about your Horcruxes for a long, long time, Tom.” He felt a surge of triumph flow through him as blank shock shot across Voldemort’s face as Harry’s words registered. His serpentine eyes widened and he was momentarily speechless. 

“Oh, yes,” Harry continued, gaining confidence from Voldemort’s astonishment. “The locket, the cup, the Diadem, the ring,” he counted them off on his fingers in a flamboyant gesture, blatantly mocking the man in front of him. “The diary. Every single one is destroyed, Tom Riddle. Oh, and of course, Nagini. Yes, that was us, too,” he continued, smirking now. “Poor Peter. We almost felt bad about that one. But Severus Snape has been deceiving you successfully for sixteen years, so it’s no wonder he managed to achieve it again. You’re a bit of a loser really, aren’t you, Tommy Boy?”

Voldemort seemed to regain some of his composure. 

“It is of little matter,” he sneered. “Once I have finally killed you I will create another. You can destroy my Death Eaters, you can destroy my Horcruxes. But you will never kill me.”

“Always the same rhetoric, isn’t it, Riddle?” Harry quipped. “Apparently I always evade you due to luck. Your own arrogance won’t let you see that Dumbledore was right. You can have all the magical strength in the world, and yet it will never be enough to beat love.”

Voldemort actually laughed at this. The sound was more of a screech, and reminded Harry of melodramatic Muggle horror films where the killer laughed in the face of the victims before slaughtering them bloodily. 

“You still think Dumbledore was wrong?” Harry continued. “I stand here, alive, today, because of my mother’s sacrifice. The same sacrifice Draco’s mother made for him only an hour ago, and allows him to stand by my side. You think it’s merely a coincidence all my friends stood beside me and fought today? That we beat your Death Eaters? They fought out of fear, not love. And that means they fought to save their own worthless skins today, rather than fight together as one. That is why they lost, despite us being so outnumbered, and it’s why you will lose today.”

“Lies!” Voldemort screeched, although Harry could see an unease creeping in to his sour features. His eyes darted around the room uncertainly. 

“Dumbledore loved this world,” Harry told Voldemort. “And he loved everyone in it- enough to _die_ in order to secure protection from you. Even when Draco was being forced by you to kill him, Dumbledore still offered him a way out. And you tried to kill Draco for it. You didn’t think for a second I’d come and save him, did you? Because you don’t know, you cannot comprehend, what it means to feel human. I saved Draco Malfoy because it was the thing a decent human being would do. Because I know how to feel compassion. That compassion rapidly turned to friendship and then love. And without my deep love for Draco Malfoy I would never have stood a chance of defeating you. It is because I love this man that I told him about your Horcruxes and gained information on the location of many directly from him.”

“Mere coincidence!” Voldemort declared, although he looked incredibly rustled now. Harry was satisfied to note the man was sweating, actually sweating. 

“Coincidence, is it? Coincidence that you lost your strongest supporter the minute you killed my mother, whom he loved dearly? The minute you began hunting Lily Potter, you lost him, you Snake-faced prick. Severus Snape has saved the entire fucking wizarding world from you. He’s the biggest hero of us all, and it’s because of love. Firstly for my mother, then secondly for me. After everything Severus and I have been through over the years, for us to love one another now is what is going to be your downfall. Again, love!”

Blood was thundering now through Harry’s brain. He felt Draco’s presence- the man who, had Narcissa’s love for him not saved him, Harry would not have found the strength to face Voldemort. He could see Ron and Hermione, his best friends who had stuck with him through everything. Remus, the man he in many ways loved like a father. Snape, the man whose love was so strong it just about saved the wizarding world. All their presence strengthened Harry. It was time. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the length of mahogany, replacing his holly wand in his trousers. His hand was steady.

“And my father, who loved me enough to try and take you on without this!” Harry fought to control his emotions now. The end was so close. He wondered why Voldemort hadn’t tried to curse him yet, and decided that the man was actually frightened of him, and what would happen if he tried. The thought heartened him. “It’s only fitting that my dad’s wand will be the one to wipe you off the face of the earth for good. Because, Tom Marvolo Riddle, you _will_ learn that love conquers all.”

He raised his father’s wand and uttered the incantation he and Severus had discovered back in January in the Black library, “ _Amor Vincit Omnia,”_

He shivered as the protective charm washed over him, and grabbed Ron’s hand with his right whilst his left clung to Draco. Draco linked hands with Snape, and Hermione took Remus’ left hand in her free right, whilst her left held tightly to Ron’s. At his word, all six repeated the charm, only effective when true love existed for the original caster, whether in a romantic, friendship or familial capacity. Love conquers all, and Voldemort was about to finally realise that.

“All you’ve ever understood is hatred,” Harry was surprised to find his voice thick and tears threatening to fall now through the sheer emotion of the situation. “You tried to rule through fear and control. Where has that got you, huh? There’s not a single person alive who would sacrifice themselves now to save you now, as I would do for any one of the people standing here with me, and they for me. Your hatred for me as a baby, when you cast the Killing Curse and ending up being less than alive yourself. That night, Riddle, you accidentally turned me into a Horcrux. Did you never even wonder, Tom, why I had a connection with you? Why I, too, could talk to snakes? Your hatred has ultimately condemned you. I could not have gotten half of the Horcruxes without that generous gift. I guess I should thank you- your inability to love has made your ultimate destruction all the easier.” 

Riddle had clearly had enough. His red eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as his mouth formed a feral snarl. _This is it,_ Harry thought. _Moment of truth._ He had deliberately not told Draco, or indeed anyone, what he and Snape had planned, as it was far from certain this would work. It had never been tested against an Unforgivable in anything Snape could find. _Neither can live whilst the other survives_. 

Voldemort and Harry both aimed their wands at the other. Harry looked into those scarlet eyes, green against red, opposites in every way. 

“ _Avada Kedavra_!”

“ _Protego Maxima_!”

The super-strength Shield Charm was swiftly erected, strengthened and reinforced by the combined force of love that Harry threw behind it. The love that his boyfriend and friends felt for him solidified the Shield, making it impenetrable, even to the Killing Curse. Harry watched in awe as the emerald light, so like his own eyes in colour, charged towards him at unstoppable speed, ricocheting violently off the Shield and bouncing back towards Voldemort before striking him squarely above the heart. 

Voldemort looked surprised for mere seconds before falling. Like a Marionette puppet whose strings had just been cut, Riddle collapsed with a definite finality. The power the Dark Lord knows not had conquered; love had overcome hatred and proven itself to be the more powerful force.

Harry cancelled the Shield Charm and numbly made his way to where Voldemort’s body lay, crumpled and broken. His eyes were open, still registering the shock and disbelief he must have felt in the instant he realised his own hatred had annihilated himself. Harry turned back to face his loved-ones; five faces were beaming at him with nothing but pride. Until that moment, Harry realised he hadn’t actually expected to survive; the fact he had was almost overwhelming.

“It’s really over,” Harry said, almost nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t currently standing over the corpse of the most evil man of modern times. “I can’t actually believe that spell worked.” And with that he fainted dead away. 

 

 

**** 

_DAILY PROPHET_

__

 

_Saturday 2 nd May 1998Special Souvenir Edition_

__

 

_YOU-KNOW-WHO DEAD; DEATH EATERS SLAYED OR CAPTURED! Harry Potter destroys Voldemort for Good this time_

__

 

_Shortly after ten this morning, Lord Voldemort, who has terrorised our world for decades, was finally vanquished for good by none other than Harry Potter. In what appears to be a well-planned and orchestrated attack, Potter and an anti You-Know-Who movement founded by Albus Dumbledore called The Order of the Phoenix, as well as select students from Hogwarts School, fought and overcame Voldemort’s entire fleet of Death Eaters, before Potter and his closest allies took on the man himself inside known Death Eater Lucius Malfoy’s Manor in Wiltshire._

_Potter’s re-emergence from the Manor caused mass panic amongst his supporters when he was carried from the building by ex-Death Eater and rumoured love interest, Draco Malfoy. However it was quickly explained to the anxious group that Potter was merely suffering from shock and magical exhaustion and was perfectly unharmed._

_Amongst the group was Severus Snape, suspected Death Eater and wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. He glared at reporters as they arrived with Potter at St. Mungo’s, pausing only to say,_

_‘If you wish to keep your limbs attached to your body you will not question any of us, now get out of our way.’_

_There were losses, however, for Potter’s side. Two Hogwarts students, seventh years Lavender Brown of Gryffindor and Michael Corner of Ravenclaw, were sadly killed. Perhaps the hardest-felt loss, however, is the death of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, who only took up the position in September following Albus Dumbledore’s death. The thoughts and wishes of all here at The Prophet are with the families of those lost in their brave fight for our freedom._

_Amongst those arrested was Lucius Malfoy, father of Draco. Although he was reportedly fighting alongside Harry Potter, Malfoy is a wanted man for previous Death Eater activities, and also escaping Azkaban eleven months ago. He will be returned to Azkaban to serve the remainder of his sentence._

_Pages 2-5 Harry Potter: a life in pictures Pages 6-8 Draco Malfoy? Potter’s Chosen One? Pages 9-13 Severus Snape- full Ministry Exoneration received. Details of a double-agent here! Page 14 list of confirmed Death Eaters Page 15 Obituary: Minerva McGonagall, 4 th October 1935- 2nd May 1998_

 

Harry folded the newspaper and sighed. He felt rather surreal; fifteen hours ago he had been preparing to leave Grimmauld Place, wondering if he’d live to see out the day, and now he was propped up in a bed in St. Mungo’s being given strong Calming Draughts to help him recover from the shock and regain some strength following his magical exhaustion. Voldemort was really dead. He had really, truly, gone for good this time. Harry was finally free. The thought had made no attempt to sink into his brain yet; he almost felt detached from the idea, and he kept waiting to wake up once more from what was surely a dream. The whole situation had an anticlimactic feel to it. Probably the realisation would kick in soon and he’d feel like celebrating; right now he just wanted to sleep for a week, the exhaustion of the previous year’s work and what he had achieved crashing down spectacularly on him. 

Severus and Draco had just returned from the Ministry, having both received full clearance of any criminal charges in relation to Dumbledore’s death and Death Eater activities. Draco, too, had been swiftly forced into a bed and given a Calming Draught of his own. Harry smiled over at Draco, who had fallen into an uneasy sleep about half an hour previously; he couldn’t be prouder of his boyfriend. 

Severus had point-blank refused any treatment. He had returned briefly to the hospital to inform Harry of the events in the Ministry before returning to Grimmauld Place. Ron and Hermione were with the Weasleys. The family was trying to come to terms with Percy’s betrayal and death. Under Veritaserum, one of the captured Death Eaters had revealed that Percy had been in league with Voldemort since his defection from the family during Harry’s fifth year at school. His friends had returned to The Burrow to grieve with the rest of the Weasleys.

Remus had returned to Grimmauld Place with Tonks as soon as he knew Harry was fine. Tonks was distraught after apparently believing she was responsible for Lavender’s death. Harry had begged with the Healers to let him out of bed, even going as far to play his ‘I’m the vanquisher of Voldemort’ card, but without success. Harry decided in the end it was best to simply take his Potions without complaint. 

He had just decided that perhaps sleep was a good idea and closed his eyes, when Snape strode into the ward. Harry’s eyes snapped open and he fumbled for his glasses. Once on, Harry could see that Snape’s face was agitated. 

“What’s the matter?” he said instantly, fully awake once more and thinking of Death Eater escapes and revenge attacks. He swallowed nervously. 

“It’s Tonks. It appears the excitement of today’s events has sent her into premature labour,” Snape replied. His tone was even but his expression showed his true feelings. There was definite concern there. Harry was out of bed and on his feet, dressed only in the hospital robe that was forced on him, before Snape’s words even truly registered with him. 

“But the baby isn’t due for another month!” Harry said, panicked. He knew nothing about pregnancy and babies, how early could one be born and survive? “I need to get to them. Where are they?”

“Could they perhaps be in the maternity ward here?” Snape replied dryly, the merest hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. Harry ignored the jibe and concentrated on pulling on his jeans. The commotion had woken Draco. 

“Wassup?” he said sleepily. Snape quickly explained whilst Harry finished dressing and, three minutes later, Harry, Draco and Snape had snuck out of the ward and were heading up to Magical Pregnancy and Births. 

The Welcome Witch in the ward informed Remus of their arrival and he came out to see them, looking ruffled and pale, but calm. 

“It’s going to be OK,” he said instantly. “The baby’s only a few weeks early, and is healthy. They say it’ll just be on the small side.” A loud groan came from inside the room, causing Harry to wince. “That was another contraction. I should get back in there. Dora’s doing really well.” With that he disappeared quickly. Harry sat down in the waiting area with Snape and Draco, feeling nervous and excited. Just this morning he was wondering if he’d live to see another day, now Voldemort was dead, his Death Eaters either killed or captured, and he was waiting for the birth of his godchild. Could the day get any more bizarre? 

**** 

It was in the early hours of the morning that Tonks’ moans became more like shouts and wails, and the noise got a lot more frequent. Finally, after a particularly loud and prolonged shriek, which made Harry glad to be gay and never have to be responsible for putting the person he loved through that sort of agony, a tiny cry of a newborn baby filled the silent waiting room, and Harry thought it a sweeter sound than any music he had ever heard. He turned and beamed at Draco, who had a very wistful expression on his face. Birth and death, the continuous circle of life. He squeezed Draco’s hand tightly. 

A few minutes later, Remus emerged, beaming. 

“A boy!” he declared, swooping Harry into an embrace. “A healthy baby boy! He’s small because he’s six weeks early so the Healers had to cast a few charms on him to keep him warm and help his breathing, but otherwise he’s perfect and should be able to come home in a couple of days. Harry, would you like to come and hold your godson?”

Harry followed Remus back into the delivery room, and stood, transfixed, at the sight in front of him. A tiny baby, with blond hair, was cradled in an exhausted-looking Tonks’ arms, fast asleep. Remus gave Tonks a kiss on her head and Harry heard him whisper, “I’m so, so proud of you, my love,” to her before taking the infant and placing him in Harry’s waiting arms. Harry had never held a baby before. He cradled the tot gently, supporting his head, and never once taking his eyes off him. 

“This is Teddy,” Remus said. “He’s named after Dora’s father. Harry, do you remember what you said to me, when I told you I was going to be a father? You told me you were going to do everything in your power to make sure my child wouldn’t have to live in a world with Voldemort in it. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done.” 

Harry blushed. “Everyone helped, you know. I couldn’t have done it without all of you.” 

Just then Teddy opened his eyes and he fixed his gaze on Harry’s face. Teddy’s eyes immediately turned into the exact same shade of Harry’s. Remus and Harry simultaneously gasped. 

“I guess he’s just like his mum, then,” Remus said with a chuckle. 

“He’s completely and utterly brilliant,” Harry replied happily. 

**** 

“He’s so tiny,” Hermione cooed, stroking Teddy’s now-purple hair as she cradled him in her arms.

“He didn’t bloody feel tiny when I was giving birth,” Tonks replied with a laugh. “Honestly, when his head began to crown, I thought my-”

“So what have they done with You-Know-Who’s body, then?” Ron interrupted, looking green. Draco shot him a grateful look. 

Teddy began to whimper so Tonks took him back and started to feed him. It was a sight Harry had seen many times since Tonks and Teddy came home from St Mungo’s two days ago, and he still wasn’t used to it. _Yep, definitely, completely gay,_ he told himself, as he caught sight of Tonks’ soft nipple before the baby latched. Ron, however, was openly staring, mouth slack, earning him a smack on the arm from Hermione. 

“It was incinerated earlier this morning, then the ashes Vanished,” Snape replied. “Burying it was too risky, it was decided. Insane necromancers digging it up and trying to resurrect him just didn’t appeal, for some reason.”

“Harry, I’ve decided to go to Australia with Hermione next week,” Ron said. “I think it’ll do me good, you know, to get out of the country for a while. Get my head around what happened on Saturday a bit.” 

Remus cleared his throat awkwardly. “On that subject, Harry, Dora and I are going to move back home too. You don’t want a screaming newborn here, plus our cottage is nearer to Dora’s parents. I hope you don’t mind.”

Harry smiled warmly at him. “Of course I don’t mind,” he replied. To be honest, he wasn’t surprised. Remus and Tonks deserved to be on their own with their family.

“I, too, am to be leaving you,” Snape announced, and this did surprise Harry. “I have been asked- well, if truth be told, begged- to take up the Headship at Hogwarts until the end of the summer term. Flitwick refused the position and no one else was suitable.”

“You’re going to be Headmaster of Hogwarts?” Draco asked, astounded. “Well, that’s brilliant!”

“ _Temporary_ Headmaster, Draco, unless I decide in September I cannot for some reason live without a bunch of brats annoying me on a daily basis,” Snape replied. “But like Harry here, Hogwarts will always hold a very special place in my heart, and I assure you it is no hardship to return.”

Harry turned to Draco. 

“So, that just leaves us then, I guess,” he said. “What are we going to do?”

Draco leant forwards and kissed Harry deeply. He rested his forehead against Harry’s when the kiss broke. 

“I guess we’ll go house-hunting in Godric’s Hollow,” he replied with a grin.


	20. Epliogue- Fourteen Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end. Thank you for reading! I do hope you've enjoyed this story.

**August 2012**

Draco’s mouth latched to the side of Harry’s neck, finding the pulse point, which began to speed up underneath Draco’s lips at the touch. He grinned inwardly to himself and sucked on the flesh, enjoying the hitch in Harry’s breath that it elicited. He snaked one arm under the maroon Auror robes Harry was still infuriatingly wearing, caressing the bare flesh and causing it to break out in goose-pimples. __

“Draco, stop…” Harry gasped, although his body betrayed his words, as Draco felt Harry’s rock-hard erection pressing deliciously into his own. “Not here, not now. I’ve really got to get home.”

“A part of you seems very keen to let me continue,” Draco quipped pointedly, the hand that wasn’t tangled in Harry’s robes squeezing Harry’s cock through the fabric. Harry let out a moan and his mouth fell slack. 

“I… _fuck_ … really need to get back. Ginny, the girls…” 

“She can manage without you for another half an hour,” Draco interrupted sharply. The image of a heavily-pregnant Ginny was _not_ helping his libido one single iota. He walked Harry backwards until they bumped into Harry’s desk, then leant Harry back against it. He slipped his hand inside Harry’s trousers and gipped him firmly.

“Ngh,” Harry murmured as he bucked into Draco’s palm, demanding more friction, submitting to him at last. Draco smirked in triumph, basking in his victory. 

“That’s right, Harry. Just enjoy. Now, no more talk about leaving, okay?” Harry screwed his eyes shut and nodded his head, just as Draco sank to his knees and freed Harry’s straining erection from his trousers, before licking the length of it base to tip.

“Oh, my god,” Harry gasped, as Draco swallowed him whole. Fifteen years of sucking Harry’s cock had taught Draco exactly how the brunet liked it; he pulled off the shaft and swirled his tongue round the head before dipping it into the slit, then returning to the length and licking the sensitive underside like an ice lolly, before once more engulfing him, his head bobbing quickly as Harry’s breathing quickened and his legs began to tremble. 

Harry was getting close, Draco knew. He pulled away from his cock completely, earning him a string of frustrated expletives in response. Draco chuckled lightly, before coming up again to kiss his lover deeply. 

“I’m going to fuck you, right here, on your desk,” he purred in Harry’s ear. He kissed Harry on the lips again, so passionately he thought he may bruise them.

“Yes,” Harry gasped, as he tried to grind his neglected member against Draco. Draco forcefully pushed the bucking hips against the polished oak of Harry’s Head Auror desk, and began unbuttoning the robes. Once they were removed he made light work of his own clothes whilst Harry removed his trousers and underwear that was pooled round his ankles. Finally naked together, Draco groaned in satisfaction, kissing a trail from Harry’s mouth down his torso, across his erection and scrotum, before he nudged Harry’s thighs apart further and buried his face in between them.

He felt Harry grip his hair almost to the point of pain as his tongue first tentatively lapped, then began to suck. Draco gently breached his lover with his tongue, enjoying Harry’s incoherent babbling that this act produced. He did love to do this to him; it never failed to reduce Harry to little more than a quivering mass. 

Draco continued to fuck him with his tongue until he felt Harry completely relax and open up for him. He withdrew his tongue and Harry thrust a small vial of lubricant, conjured no doubt, into his hand, before lying backwards on the desk and pulling Draco on top of him, kissing him. He seemed to really enjoy snogging after getting rimmed, knowing where Draco’s mouth and tongue had been, and Draco found it incredibly fucking sexy. He dipped his fingers into the gel, before inserting his fingers, taking the time to massage Harry’s prostate and causing his cock to give a jerk, before withdrawing, adding some of the gel to his own completely untouched member, and gently pushing in.   

           
---  
  
Locking eyes with his lover, Draco began to thrust, gently at first then becoming firmer, his strokes having more force behind them. He adjusted his angle slightly and was rewarded with a keening cry from Harry, who was flushed pink with arousal and covered in beads of sweat. It was almost too much; Draco was not going to last long at all.

“Close,” he rasped, as he pushed him as deeply as he could, causing Harry’s back to arch off the desk. 

“Good, me too,” Harry replied, reaching round to give his erection a stroke. The sight of his lover touching himself never failed to push Draco over the edge, and today was no exception. He thrust hard into Harry, before his orgasm ripped through him, just as he felt Harry stiffen then shudder underneath him, his face contorted with pleasure, followed by a warm wetness flooding between their slick stomachs. 

Draco withdrew gently from Harry, pausing to look in satisfaction at some of his own come dripping down Harry’s left thigh. Harry smirked, ran a finger through it, then popped the digit into his mouth, licking it clean. Draco shivered and felt his cock take a renewed interest in the proceedings.

“Don’t you need to get back to Ginevra? Keep doing that and I’ll be ready for another go and won’t let you out of here,” he said hoarsely, before locating his wand and cleaning both himself and Harry up with a spell. 

“I really do have to go. I said I’d be home at five and it’s already twenty past,” Harry replied, sounding regretful. He quickly located his clothes and dressed. “Besides, the other Healers will be wondering where the bloody hell you’ve got to. I’ll see you later. I love you.” With that he removed the Locking Spells from his office and dashed out of the Ministry.

**** 

Harry Apparated into his front garden before pausing momentarily to straighten his hair- as much as it could ever be straightened- and smooth out his robes, and, hoping he didn’t look completely and utterly shagged, opened his front door. He was immediately attacked by two small, identical redhead girls with green eyes, who both threw themselves at his waist. 

“Daddy!” they cried simultaneously. Harry bent down and gave them both a long, lingering hug, before kissing them each on their forehead. 

“Hey, you two,” he said fondly, cuddling his daughters tightly to him. “I missed you both as well. I hope you’ve both been good today.”

“They’ve been fine,” Ginny’s voice called out in an irritated voice. “It’s this one here that’s been giving me shit.”

“What’s ‘shit’, daddy?” asked one of the girls innocently. Harry mumbled something about ‘bad words’ and ‘your mother shouldn’t say that’ before distracting them both with a new doll each. He entered the living room and gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek. 

“Rough day, then?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

“You could say that. You try being thirty-eight weeks fucking pregnant in this heat,” she replied waspishly. “He thinks my bladder is a Quaffle ball, I swear, and I have terrible heartburn. Not even that potion the Healer at St. Mungo’s prescribed for me has helped. Honestly, the girls were less trouble and there were fucking _two_ of them in there!”

“It’s because he’s a boy,” Harry replied.

“Don’t give me that crap. It’s because he’s a Malfoy, and we both know it. I’m breeding the spawn of Draco Malfoy; I don’t know why I didn’t foresee this as a potential disaster to begin with,” Ginny replied hotly. Harry knew better than to make any comment other than a non-committal ‘hmmm’. 

“Why are you late, anyway?” Ginny demanded. “Five, you said to me.” So Ginny was in _that_ mood. Harry ran a hand over his face and sighed. 

“Sorry, Gin. I, er, had a report that had to be finished before I can leave, and-” 

“Don’t lie. You were fucking Draco,” she said, unsure whether to laugh or be angry. “Oh come on, Harry. You couldn’t be more obvious. For a start your robes are on inside out. Look, I’m going home. Carlos will be wondering where I am.” After a few unsuccessful attempts to get out of the armchair, Harry offered his arm and helped her up. “What time does the Father of Satan himself get in tonight, anyway?”

“He finishes at nine,” Harry answered, fighting the smile threatening to break out. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Amelie, Sophia, I’m going home now,” Ginny called, and the girls ran into the living room and gave her a hug before she Flooed home. 

**** 

Two hours later and both girls had been fed, bathed, and were fast asleep. Sophia had complained of a sore stomach, and Harry had read her an extra story to make it feel better.He then collapsed into the nearest armchair, nursing a Butterbeer. When Ginny had offered in 2005 to be their surrogate, both he and Draco were sceptical and preferred an anonymous host; however when Ginny pointed out that her career as a professional Chaser frequently took her and her team-mate and husband Carlo all over the world and therefore they weren’t intending to have her own children, they had reconsidered. Harry had fathered the twins (which were a huge surprise and stunned Draco into silence for two days when they found out at Ginny’s twelve week check-up), although Draco fully considered them his own children. The situation had worked out perfectly for them- the girls were born in May 2006 and lived full-time with Harry and Draco. They saw their mother a couple of times a month, whenever she was in the country, and had a strong relationship with their Weasley relatives. As soon as their son was born at the end of August, Ginny was off on another six-month tour. Asia, this time. Harry and Draco were the children’s permanent and legal carers. 

Harry was dozing with the TV that he insisted on installing flickering in the background when Draco arrived home. 

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he joked, kissing Harry on the head. Harry came to in an instant and looked at his watch. 

“It’s gone ten. Where have you been?” he said with a yawn. 

“We had a bleeder come in just as I was about to leave,” Draco said, and when Harry put his glasses back on he could see Draco’s hospital robes were indeed covered in blood. “A _Diffindo_ that went astray. How was the she-Weasel today?” 

Harry snorted. “Best not let her hear you call her that. The mood she’s in she’ll castrate you, and probably not even use magic to do so.” Draco gave Harry a questioning look. “Apparently, Caelum has been giving her a hard time today.” ‘Caelum’ had been Draco’s choice of name, in following with the Black tradition of naming their children after constellations. Harry didn’t hate it, per se, but it wouldn’t have been his choice. Still, it was a lot better than ‘Ophiuchus’, which had been one Draco was seriously contemplating at one point. And he had named the girls. Amelie Narcissa and Sophia Lily, after their mothers. 

“I’m shattered,” he said, rising off the sofa and heading to their bedroom. “Bed?”

“Always,” Draco replied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Harry just laughed. 

Things were just becoming interesting when there was a sudden cry of ‘Daddy!’ coming from Sophia’s room, followed by a loud, ‘bleugh!’ and the unmistakable splatter of vomit hitting the carpet.

“Fuck,” Draco said, and threw on his dressing-gown, willing away his semi-hard erection that had begun to form. “Remember when we said it was going to be just us, forever and ever? What made us change our minds and have children? Remind me, again, why we’re having another one?”

“Because we said that when we were seventeen, and we’re both thirty-two now and it’s time to be grown-ups?” Harry quipped, and he went into Sophia’s bedroom to comfort his vomiting daughter whilst Draco retrieved the disinfectant potions and Muggle bleach from the kitchen.

**** 

“Just because Harry and Draco have a television, it doesn’t mean you need to stay glued to it the whole time you’re here,” Remus chastised his son. Teddy grunted in response, stuffing a whole Maryland Cookie in his mouth. 

“Olympics,” Teddy said between mouthfuls, spraying crumbs everywhere and not taking his eyes off the screen. “C’mon, dad, it’s only on every four years!” he added, cheering as Great Britain took another gold medal in the velodrome. Teddy had, to no one’s surprise, been Sorted into Ravenclaw when he started Hogwarts three years ago. He was exceptionally bright. He was now only a few weeks away from starting his fourth year. Harry grinned apologetically at Remus and took his seat next to his godson; like Teddy, he, too, had been somewhat addicted to the Muggle sports at the London Games in the last few days.

“Father,” Amelie said, crawling into Draco’s lap and throwing her arms around his neck as he kissed her hair, “when will Auntie Hermione and Uncle Ron be here?”

“They’re on their way, darling,” he replied. The small girl practically vibrated in his lap in excitement; after Hermione restored her parents’ memories and they recalled who they were, they decided to stay in Australia as they’d fallen in love with the country. Hermione and Ron visited them in Sydney a few times a year but, after they got married in 2008, they decided to emigrate there permanently. This was their first visit back to the UK since Christmas. 

“They’re here!” Sophia squealed as she let go of the curtain through which she had been staring at the gravelled drive, waiting for a glimpse of them, and began jumping up and down on the spot. “I hope they’ve got us presents!”

A minute later and there were fierce hugs, and a lot of tears, and ‘my, haven’t you two grown’ to the girls. Harry stepped into the garden to light the barbeque, followed by Ron. Harry handed him a beer. 

“I’ve missed you, mate,” Ron said, taking a sip of his beer.Harry smiled.

“Me, too,” he replied, taking his best friend into another hug.

“So, Hermione and I have news.” The expression on Ron’s face clearly showed he had been bursting to say this since the second he crossed the threshold. His face was alive with excitement. “I’m finally going to be a daddy!”

Harry felt tears prick in the corners of his eyes. Ron had confided in him during a heavy drinking session over Christmas that he and Hermione had been trying for a baby for two years without success, and were going to see a Healer in the New Year. He beamed at Ron, before pulling him to yet another bone-crushing embrace. 

“That’s wonderful,” Harry replied. “I’m made up for you both.”

“I’m not firing blanks after all,” Ron quipped, his face radiant. “And the baby’s due in February. We’ve already seen it on the scan and everything is completely healthy.”

An hour later and the garden of Harry and Draco’s Godric’s Hollow cottage was full, the sound of laughter and aroma of barbecued meat filling the air. Even Teddy had dragged himself away from the television, a hot dog in his hand. He’d even managed to convince Tonks to let him have a beer. A loud crack of Apparition, followed by a billowing of black robes, indicated Snape’s rather late arrival. He greeted everyone formally, although Harry and Draco could both see the tenderness on his face as Sophia and Amelie hugged him. He would never be able to fool them that he was anything other than completely besotted with the twins. 

Teddy looked momentarily alarmed by the sudden appearance of his headmaster in his godfather’s garden, and tried to hide his beer behind his back. Snape gave him a questioning look.

“Really, Lupin? You trying to get your fourteen-year-old son drunk?” he sneered. Remus sighed. 

“Dora let him have it. It’s only the one. Why not have one yourself and take the broomstick out of your arse for a bit, huh?”

Everyone bar Snape laughed. Snape glared and picked up a burger, examining it with mild distaste before taking a hesitant bite. 

Eventually the girls became tired so Draco took them up to bed. Harry approached Hermione. 

“Ron told me your news,” he said, a smile on his face. “Congratulations.”

“I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret,” she laughed. “We’ve not even told his parents yet. But we couldn’t not tell you.” She settled into Harry’s inviting arm. “Can you believe it’s been fourteen years since Voldemort’s defeat? We’re getting old.”

“We’re not that old,” Harry replied. “But you’re right, it’s gone so quickly. Even now I half expect the bastard to come back.”

Hermione squeezed his hand. “He won’t you know. We’re all finally free.”

“I know. It’s just I never expected to have any of this- my own family. And I keep waiting for someone to try and take it from me.”

“No one’s going to, Harry. We won. _You_ won. It’s well and truly over,” Hermione said gently. 

Harry kissed her head. “I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too, Harry,” she replied.

**** 

“That was exhausting, but brilliant,” Harry said sleepily as he stretched out on the sofa, Draco curled into his arms. “I do miss Ron and Hermione, but it’s always so fantastic seeing them after so long, it almost makes it worth them living so far away, if that makes sense?” He could feel Draco smile against his chest as he offered a sleepy ‘mmhmm’. “They’re having a baby, you know.”

“I thought so,” Draco replied, then chuckled at Harry’s surprised response. “I am a Healer, you know. It was kind of obvious. Not drinking alcohol, Hermione insisting her steak was cooked to well-done, and the discreet touches to her tummy all afternoon. It practically shone out of her. I’m happy for them.”

“We’ve been together fifteen years now,” Harry said, carding his fingers through Draco’s hair. “Two kids, another due any day. Think it’s time we got married?” He heard Draco’s intake of breath and smiled. 

“Harry Potter, did you just propose to me?” he asked, mock horror in his voice. 

“Yes. Yes I bloody well did,” Harry laughed.

“OK then. Of course I’ll marry you. You unromantic git.”

Harry felt his heart flutter as Draco reached up and kissed him, before he rested his head on Harry’s chest once more and closed his eyes, holding him tightly. Fifteen years ago, Harry could never imagine that one day he’d have everything he’d ever wanted. And now he had it, he intended to never ever let it go. Life was pretty damn good.

-The End-


End file.
